


Sick

by Lovely_Dove



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: America, England (Country), Established Relationship, F/M, Feelings, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-10 23:18:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 22,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8943457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovely_Dove/pseuds/Lovely_Dove
Summary: First you were poisoned, then a machine gun was dumped into the mix, aiming at your head. What kind of horrors does your past have in store for you? (Mostly drabble, I have no idea where this is going)





	1. Chapter 1

    I shook my head as I felt my body growing warmer. This stupid fever had started yesterday evening around 10pm and had been getting worse ever since. Despite having a doctor in the same room as me, I didn’t mention it and had used makeup to add color to my face. I didn’t want to cause a ruckus, so I just stayed silent. Thankfully, the dynamic duo were too engrossed in their work to see my discomfort. I stood from my chair and placed my files on the floor.  
  
    “Going to the loo again?” Sherlock asked, not looking up from his paperwork. ‘That is five times in an hour.”  
  
    “Congratulations,” I grunted. “You can count. No, I am going to the guest study for a moment, I forgot my red pen in there.” I lied, he knew I was lying but decided not to say anything. John gave me a sideways look, but I averted my eyes and exited the small living room. I walked into the back room and grabbed the thermometer from my back pocket. I placed it in my mouth and waited until it beeped. I could feel my head beginning to spin as I looked at the number 40.2 degrees celsius... 104.5 degrees fahrenheit. I stared down at the small item, and thought about asking John for his opinion, but then heard Sherlock exclaim.  
  
    I quickly made my way out the living room and watched as he ran around the room grabbing seemingly random papers. He then piled them onto the cluttered coffee table. “Look! Here, don’t you see-” He glared at John as the room began swimming. “It’s obvious!”  
  
    “It is?” John asked, looking dumbfounded as usual.  
      
    Sherlock then turned to me. “Don’t you see it?”  
  
    I blinked a few times as I tried to focus on the case. “I- uh-I...” I stuttered.  
  
    “Are you alright?” John asked, looking concerned.  
  
Sherlock looked confused for a moment, then studied me closely. Just as black began streaming in from the corner of my eyes, he leaped forward. That was the last thing I saw.


	2. 2

I felt cold, I was covered in a sweat and realized I was shivering. Opening my eyes, I saw that I was in Sherlock’s bed. He frowned when he saw my hand dart for the I.V. which was shoved inside of me, however his hand wasn’t the one that stopped me. John was standing behind me, adjusting the I.V. I had just tampered with.   
  
“What do you think you’re doing?” The doctor asked as if I was a child.   
  
“What happened?” I asked, confused.   
  
“You fainted.” John said simply. “That’s what happens when you run a high fever and don’t tell your bloody doctor!” Sherlock was still silently looking me over while John continued to lecture me. “40 degrees? You can cook your brain at that high of a temperature! What were you thinking?”  
  
Suddenly Sherlock’s hand reached into my back pocket and pulled out the medical tool. “You knew.” He said, then licked his thumb and ran it down my red hot cheek. The makeup came right off as his frown deepened. “Why did you hide it?” He demanded sternly.  
  
I shook my head. “We were busy, on a case-”   
  
Sherlock reached up and smacked me across the face.   
  
“What the hell?” I shouted, recoiling from the uncharacteristic violence. John opened his mouth to say something as well when Sherlock hushed us both.   
  
“Notice how her skin didn’t turn red?” He asked, sounding... scared?  
  
“No,” John snapped. “But that’s probably because her whole face is red from the bloody fever!”  
  
“John, I need you to get some supplies.” Sherlock said, writing on a piece of paper he pulled out of his coat pocket. He shoved the paper into the doctor’s hands once he finished his list.  
  
“You’re thinking poison?” John asked, appalled.   
  
“Move it!” He shouted, shooing him from the room.  
  
John scurried out of the room as Sherlock glared at me. “Why didn’t you mention it, no lying.”  
  
I kept quiet. I wasn’t going to do this right now.   
  
“Why won’t you talk to me?” He asked, his voice growing soft as it did when we were alone. “Why didn’t you mention it? Even just excuse yourself to lay down?” I shook my head as tears fell from my face. I was freezing and burning at the same time, my entire body was hypersensitive, and I could tell when he inched closer to the bed. “You need to give me one good reason, or I will take you to the Hospital right now.”  
  
“We were about to crack the case.” I whispered. “That is more important that my health.”  
  
“Why is this case so important?” He asked, genuinely clueless about it.  
  
I smiled weakly, “It’s a rape case, why isn’t it important?”  
  
He frowned, then glared at me. “No,” He said, his voice deeper than usual, “No, you weren’t-” He looked into my eyes and saw the truth. “No.” He growled. “You would have said something to me.”  
  
I made a face. “It’s not something that is just brought up in passing.” I shrugged and he grabbed my shoulders.  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me?.” He shook my shoulders slightly. “I found it odd that you were pushing so hard for this case, but I thought it had to do with you being a woman, not a...” He trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence.   
  
“It was years ago,” I told him. “I was only a kid.”   
  
He released me. “That makes it better?” He asked, appalled.   
  
“I didn’t think it would be the same guy.” I laughed, despite the circumstances. “I just figured, since you didn’t have a case-”  
  
He abruptly stood and stormed out of the room.   
  
“Alrightly then...” I said to the empty room, then leaned back and decided to get some sleep. Just as I let myself drift off, I heard him beginning to play the violin and let that lull me back to sleep.


	3. 3

"Hey," John said, shaking my shoulder lightly. "Where is Sherlock?"  
  
"Huh?" I asked, my brain not understanding the question quick enough. "I don't know..." I trailed off, confused. "Didn't he just go to the living room?"  
  
"No, I checked the entire apartment." He said, shaking his head. "He isn't here, I gathered all the supplies, but have no idea how to prepare them."   
  
I furrowed my brow. "Have you tried texting him?"   
  
"No answer." John frowned.   
  
I reached over to the nightstand as John felt my face. He didn't seem to be too happy about what he was seeing. I went to my contact list and tapped Sherlock's name, then placed the phone to my ear. I waited as it rang, but got no answer. I shook my head and placed the phone back down. John the began checking my vitals, but I ignored him. I spaced out until I heard him grunt then force me to sit up. It took me a moment to catch my breath, and he listened intently.   
  
"Get out of bed." John said, helping me up. "Your respiratory system is shutting down.  We need you get you to the hospital."  
  
"No," I grunted. "I don't want to go." I said stubbornly. "I want to wait."   
  
He frowned, but knew how stubborn I could be. "Fine, I'll text him again, but if you get worse, you're going." I frowned, but knew he could force me to go if he really wanted to. I stood as he pulled out his phone and  texted the detective. I shook a bit as I felt lightheaded, then walked over to the dresser where I kept some clothes. I grabbed a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt, then made my way to the bathroom. It took quite a while as I had to use the wall to keep myself upright. Once I made it across the apartment, I stepped inside and closed the door then began to change. My fever had broken at some point and I was covered in sweat. I peeled off my shirt and pants, leaving my underwear on (I hadn't done laundry in a while), just when I heard someone walk up the stairs. I put my shirt on just as the bathrrom door flew open.  
  
I screamed and jumped as Sherlock barreled into the small room. His face was straight as he  placed a hand on my forehead then shoved a tea into my hand. "Drink." He commanded, then shuffled out as quickly as he entered. I stood there for a moment, confused, then heard him shout form right outside the door; "You need to drink the tea!" Just as I brought the tea to my lips, I got dizzy and had to grasp the sink in order to not fall. Just then blood dripped from my nose and eyes.   
  
"Sherlock?" I called weakly.   
  
The door opened, slower than this time, he peeked his head in the barreled in once again once he saw my bloody face. He picked the cup up and shoved it up to my lips. I drank as much as he made me, then he grabbed a wash cloth and wiped my face. Once all the blood was gone, he noticed the tears. I had began crying once the blood showed up. He frowned deeply, then stepped out and closed the door once again.  
  
I stared into the mirror and sighed as I wiped the tears away from my eyes. I slid some pants on and then stepped out to the main room. Sherlock had disappeared once again, and John was pacing. He hurried over to me and listened to my breathing once again. He nodded and told me that my breathing was still diminished, but stable. I smiled kindly at the man and made my way back into the bedroom, I laid down in Sherlock's bed and closed my eyes once again.  
***  
I opened my eyes to the sun shining into the bedroom. Rubbing my eyes, I stood and made my way to the door, then out into the living room. I grimaced as I saw Sherlock asleep on the couch. I reached over and pushed his shoulder. He squinted his eyes, then rubebed them and finally they focused on me.   
  
"You do realize that you have a bed?" I asked the fully-clothed man.  
  
"It was occupied by someone who was very close to death." He said plainly. "It seemed wrong to kick you out."  
  
I made a face. "However it would have made sense to shake my shoulder and ask me to move or even carry me to the couch."  
  
He frowned. "Considering how far along the poison progressed, I assumed it was too risky to do."  
  
I smiled cheekily. "You care."  
  
He shook his head. "It just seemed-"  
  
I laughed, then coughed nastily, then laughed once again. "You...do..care..." I managed between breaths.   
  
"You should stop talking." Sherlock said simply, "That tea stopped the poison, however it will not reverse the effects."  
  
I felt my face go pale. "So my lungs will always act like this?"  
  
"Your body will attempt to heal itself," He said, standing up. "Although for the moment you should be careful about doing too much strenuous activity."  
  
I sighed and sat on the couch next to him. "So how is the case going?"  
  
"No, no, no, no, no." He said, standing abruptly. "It's not your case anymore."  
  
I shook my head. "One good thing about being a private investigator, only the client can take me off of a case."  
  
"Well it must by awfully annoying to be removed from the case then." He said, grabbing all of his paperwork.  
  
"No." I snapped. "I am still on this case!"  
  
"Are you hard of hearing?" He asked, throwing the papers down and walking closer to me. "You. Are. Not. On. This. Case."  
  
Before I could retort, I heard a knock on the wall. John cleared his throat and looked between us. "Lover's quarrel?"   
  
"You're not working." Sherlock snapped, pointing a finger in my face. He then gathered up the paper and went into his room, slamming the door.   
  
"What did you do to him?" John asked, still in the doorway.  
  
"Accused him of caring." I sighed, leaning back into the couch. "Now he is kicking me off the case." I stood and began walking to the bedroom. "Now I'm going out." I walked in and ignored Sherlock. I reached into my dresser and grabbed a royal blue blouse, some dark jeans, then reached into the closet and grabbed my grey peacoat.  I went into the bathroom and changed, then went by the door and slid on my black wedges. I waved to John, then exited the small apartment. 


	4. 4

I climbed out of the cab and walked up to the apartment building where victim number four lived. I pressed the button next to her room number and her mother, Viola, came over the speaker.   
  
"Hello, who is this?"  
  
"Hi!" I coughed. "My name is Evelyn, I'm with Scotland Yard working the Rameriez case."  
  
"Oh, yes, yes." She stammered. "Please, do come in." She buzzed me in and I walked briskly up the stairs. Once I was at her apartment, I knocked on the door. She opened it quickly. "Oh, wow." She said, then recovered.  
  
I raised a brow. "Is something wrong?"   
  
"No, you, just, you look very pretty." She looked down. "Aren't detectives suppose to be older men?"  
  
"Usually." I laughed. "But I am invested in this case, I hope you don't mind me being here instead of an old man." Her faced darkened quickly and I knew why. "May I please speak with her?" I asked softly.   
  
She nodded and gestured for me to si ton the couch. I complied and she walked into another room. After a minute or so she emerged with Renya Davis, the 3rd victim in this horrible case. "Hello," I said kindly as the 14 year old sat down across from me. "My name is Evelyn, but feel free to call me Evie."  
  
She nodded. "I'm Renya."   
  
"Hi, Renya." I smiled to the poor girl. "I wish we could have met under different circumstances. Now, I am sorry, but I am here to speak to you about what happened last week." I waited, but got no response. "Now, from what I was told, you had been speaking with Randolph online fro quite some time?"  
  
"He went by the name 'Oscar'." Viola offered  
  
I nodded and turned to Renya again. "Now, I am also aware that pictures were sent."   
  
Renya shot daggers at me. "I was a victim."  
  
I shook my head. "You are a victim, you always will be. You never outgrow it. Now if we want to catch this guy, I need you to co-operate."  
  
"You have no idea how it feels!" She snarled.   
  
I held my tongue and spoke as if she hadn't taunted me like that. Reaching into my coat pocket, I pulled out screenshots of the messages. I felt a cold rush go through my body as I read the messages. Renya turned red with rage, and her other turned away. "He lured you to a train station," I began, "Urging you to run away with him, correct?" The silence was answer enough. "Now, once he spotted you, he threatened you with a knife, correct?" A tear ran down her face as I coughed. "Then he brought you to an alleyway out back, and shoved you into his car." I stated as her tears ran freely, her mother had joined in. "He then drugged you by-"  
  
"ENOUGH!" Renya roared, shaking with anger. "You don't know what it's like, thinking you're going to die!" I took a deep breath as she continued. "You don't understand what it's like to be pushed to the brink and have someone you think care about you." She looked me up and down. "You're just some pretty, preppy rich girl. You have no idea how to suffer."  
  
That sent me over the edge. "You listen to me." I snarled as she cowered. "When I was nine this man- this pig- did to me what he did to you! He conditioned me right in front of my parents and no one cared." I stood above her. "He told them he was bringing me to the playground, insteand we went to his house where he raped me. Over and over. I didn't send photographs! I didn't beg for him! I begged for him to stop! Now I am trying to bring him in for justice and you think you have it bad. I was told that I was lying by the very people who were supposed to help me." I put my finger in her face. "I know exactly what it is like to suffer. I have done more than you have. You're a child, you stil have your entire life ahead of you. Stop acting like a child and help me stop this from happening again!" I felt a warm liquid trail down my face, I wiped it away on my sleeve. "Now please, learn to listen before you speak."  
  
The rest of the meeting went off without another outburst from anyone. Sadly she had no new information. I left within an hour.  
  
As I was about to exit the building, my phone rang, I looked down at it and saw that I had a text.   
  
Off.  
  
Really? I was about to type a reply when I was bumped into. Automatically I began to apologize, then I noticed who it was. "Go away." I grunted.  
  
"What part of off did you not understand?" Sherlock demanded, grasping my arm and dragging me outside. He placed me on the porch and began turning around.   
  
"She didn't know anything." I said, tossing him the voice recorder. He caught it and turned to me. "I can't stay away form this case." I shrugged as he walked towards me. He motioned for me to follow and I obeyed.   
  
"See this?" He asked, stopping at the end of the street and turning to me.  
  
"What am I looking at?" I asked, confused.  
  
"London." He said as if I was stupid. He grasped me shoulder. "You have the whole city to enjoy, yet you do this?" He demanded, then noticed the blood on my sleeve. "Did you have a spike in blood pressure?" He asked, looking me over.   
  
"Why?" I asked just as a mam walked up behind Sherlock. If I've learned one thing since becoming a detective, it's how to spot trouble. "Behind you!" I warned quietly. He smirked as if he was excited for the action. The man raised his arm to hit Sherlock, but Sherlock turned, ready for the blow. He grabbed the man's arm and twisted it around with ease. The man shrieked as his elbow was dislocated. I heard footsteps behind me and whirled around, kicking my attacker right in between the legs. He howled with pain and came at me again. I raised my fists, and he swung. I ducked out of the way and went to jab him in the stomach, but he blocked me. With his free hand he went to punch me in the neck, but I raised my leg straight up and caught it with the back of my knee. I closed my leg and drug him to the ground. I then punched him square in the face and knocked him out. I turned and saw Sherlock just staring at me.   
  
"What?" I asked, then began searching the man. I found a gun and flashed it to Sherlock. "They don't want us dead."  
  
"Yet." He frowned. "Now will you stay off the case?"   
  
"Nope." I said sternly. "I'm already on their hit list, why not see it through?"  
  
He came closer to me, his voice grew soft. "Please?"  
  
I looked appalled. "Did you not just see me hold my own against a man who had at least 6 inches on me?"  
  
"Do you feel the blood running down your face?" He asked me. I felt more blood pouring down my face. I closed my eyes and turned away from him. I began walking down the street, and he didn't follow. 


	5. Chapter 5

    I walked into the apartment and let the door close behind me. I sighed and shrugged my coat off, then walked to the bedroom. I laid on the bed, then noticed the light in the bathroom. I slowly stood, then slithered towards the door, just as my hand brushed the handle, the door flew back and I was pulled inside. I shouted and swung, making contact with a face. I heard a grunt, then my arms were restrained behind my back. I swung my leg up behind me and hooked it behind my attacker's kneecaps, then pulled hard. He grunted, then slammed me into the wall. "EVELYN!" He roared. "Calm down!" I stopped when I heard the voice. 

 

    "What are you doing here?!" I shrieked, turning to Sherlock and hitting him. "You nearly gave me a heart-" I was cut off by  a loud whirring, then being slammed into the floor. He laid on top of me, crushing me slightly. The noise suddenly changed and one word floated through my head. Machine gun. I covered my ears and  waited for it to end. We were on the floor for at least two minutes before the shower of bullets stopped. Even after that we waited another minute before standing up. Once we finally stood, I sat down on the toilet to allow myself to get my bearings. 

 

    "Are you alright?" He asked, looking me over. 

  
  


    "Just give me a minute," I snapped, waving him off. "Who wants to kill me?" I breathed. "Why?"

  
  


    "I'm not sure." Sherlock admitted. "But it probably has something to do with what happened to you."  He frowned at the mention of it.

  
  


    I stood. "Sherlock-"

  
  


     He grabbed my arms and checked my pulse. "Pack a bag."  He said, "You can stay in my apartment." He let himself out of the bathroom, then sat on my bed, waiting for me to finish packing. I ran around the room, grabbing pictures, clothes, toiletries, and anything else I cannot replace. "Almost done?" He asked, seemingly annoyed with my packing speed. 

 

    "Just give me a moment." I said, frowning. "How did you know?"

  
  


    "When you left, one of the men came to and I interrogated him." Sherlock said simply. 

  
  


    "I don't believe it was that simple." I said, smiling slightly. "You always love to boast, explain your outrageous ways," I shook my head, then locked eye contact. "Sherlock, how did you know?" 

  
  


    He ignored my question and stood. "Ready?" 

  
  


    I nodded. "I guess." 

  
  


    ****************************************************************

 

    I placed my bag on the couch and sat down, pulling my laptop out and opened some of the case files. Sherlock picked up my bag and walked into his room. "What are you doing?" I demanded. 

  
  


    "You are a guest and shall be treated as such." Sherlock said, placing my bag on his bed. "You may take my bed for the duration of your stay, no matter how long it shall be.”

  
  


    “Nope.” I said, following him in, grabbing my bag, and once again placing it on the couch. 

  
  


    “Eve, don’t be rash,” Sherlock scolded, “You need the bed more than I do.” He snatched it from me and placed it in the room again. 

  
  


    “You could use it too.:” I muttered, deciding that the fight was futile.  “However, the bed it quite large…”

  
  


    “No.” Sherlock insisted. 

  
  


    “Yes.” I said. “Either we share, or I sleep on the floor out here.”

  
  


    “What would stop me from carrying you back to bed?” He questioned, looking for an actual answer. 

  
  


    “I am a light sleeper.:” I reminded him. “And, you saw what happens when I get confused and lash out.”

  
  


    “It wasn’t that impressive.” He chuckled, then nodded. “Alright, we will share the bed.:”

  
  


    :”Thank you.” I smiled as John walked up the stairs. 

  
  


    “What’s going on?” JOhn asked, curious. 

  
  


           “Evelyn has been targeted by someone.” Sherlock explained. “So she will be staying with us for some time.” 

  
  


    “Oh,” John said. “Alright. Umm…” he trailed off. “Well I found a lead.”

  
  


    “Why didn’t you say so?” I asked, grabbing the paper out of his hand. It was covered in numbers, with no meaning in sight. “What is this about?”

  
  


  I handed the paper over to Sherlock, who stared at the paper for a moment. “Coordinates?” He rushed over to the map he had tacked up on the wall, ran his finger down the map, the across and stopped abruptly. “Where is this leading us.”

  
  


    “I haven’t the faintest idea.” John admitted. “I found it in our mailbox.”

  
  


    Sherlock looked excited. “Well, let’s go find out!:”


	6. Chapter 6

“Sherlock?” I called, questioningly as he looked around the empty field. “What are you doing?”

  
  


       “Just leave him be.” John whispered. “I’ve learned that he just needs to be allowed to use his own methods.”

  
  


    “John!” Sherlock yelled. “Have you not learned from my techniques?”

  
  


    “Um,” He stuttered. “I have.”

  
  


    “Then quit your babbling!” He snapped, spinning in another circle, then running away from us.

  
  


    John and I shook our heads, then walked off and followed after him. “So what happened at your flat last evening?” He questioned, as Sherlock zigzagged across the field.

  
  


    “Machine gun.” I explained. 

  
  


    “What? How did that happen?” He asked, turning to me and stopping our nice stroll. 

  
  


    “Not too sure.” I admitted, blushing slightly. “Sherlock did get there in time and was able to get me to safety before I became swiss cheese.” I smiled, “It was still a close call.”

  
  


    “Over here!” Sherlock announced. “I found it!”

  
  


    “After you.” John said, waving his arms to indicate that I should go first. I thanked him, and made my way over to the tall man walking briskly in circles. 

  
  


    “What did you find?” I asked, curiously examining the ground. “I don’t see anything.”

  
  


    “You don’t?!” Sherlock exclaimed, looking at me as if  I was blind. “I am quite disappointed, look again.”

  
  


    My heart sank, but I did as I was told and looked again. I stared for a moment, then noticed it. “That grass is fake.” I stated. “The dirt around it is moved, and the color is slightly off. “ I knelt down and pulled the fake grass up and away then brushed the dirt away. John knelt down next to me and noticed the box. He pulled it out, then stood. 

  
  


    “It’s a wooden box.” John said, opening it quickly. Sherlock snatched a piece of paper from the center of the box and looked down at a piece of paper. 

  
  


    I was curious and stood, trying to read over Sherlock’s shoulders. He cursed, then threw the paper down. Looking down, I read the words; “Gotcha Guys ;)”

  
  


*********************************************************************************************

 

    I sat down on the couch and threw my head back. “That was a waste of time.” I grunted, throwing my arm over my eyes in order to block out the light. “Why must we always fall for such tricks?” 

  
  


    “Because we need to follow every lead.” John said, walking into the room and taking a seat next to me on the couch. 

  
  


    I shook my head and stood, walking over to the desk and logging onto the computer. I reached across and grabbed the package of gum to the left of the desk and opened it. “Everybody freeze!” Sherlock boomed, slamming the door behind him. “Someone was in here.”

  
  


    “How do you know?” John demanded, bewildered. “We were only gone for an hour, and Mrs. Hudson was here the entire time.”

  
  


    “Look at the carpet.” He scoffed, laying on the ground, and examining the carpet. “It has been moved to the right by a centimeter.” He stood abruptly and looked at John. “I left the pillow on my left now it is on your right.” John looked puzzled, however before he could respond, Sherlock turned his gaze on me, “And I don’t own any gum, let alone fruit flavored gum. “ Both John and I stared at him in disbelief. “Seriously? I set up a trip wire by the front door. Mrs. Hudson knew to step over it, but there are a few traces of blood on the floor from where whoever came in here hit the floor.” He chuckled and I rolled my eyes, grabbed a piece of gum, but he locked eyes with me. “I honestly don’t own any gum.”

  
  


    I frowned deeply and opened a slice of gum, examining it silently. “It’s coated in some kind of powder.” Sherlock rushed over, and grabbed a piece from me. He smelled it, then licked the piece of gum. He spit it back out suddenly and snatched the rest of the pack from me. “Potassium Chloride.” He explained. “Once you put the gum in your mouth and chew  _ bang _ !” He threw his arms up into the air, then paused. “What else did they touch?” He then briskly pranced across the room and checked everything. I sat there and watched him closely, how flustered he was, when his face went blank, I watched for any tell, trying to get an idea of what he was most concerned about, however nothing was being given away. Approximately after an hour, I became tired and decided to go lay down for a bit. Standing up from the chair, I expressed my interest in laying down. 

  
  


    “Let me check the room first.” Sherlock demanded, running into the bedroom. I followed closely, becoming slightly annoyed.

  
  


    “I just need some rest,” I said, patience running thin. 

  
  


    “I know.” He nodded, then gestured to the bed. “I’ll be quiet.”

  
  


    I walked over to the dresser and grabbed a nightgown of mine. It was royal blue, silk, had a lace back, short sleeves and was floor length. I walked to the bathroom, stripped, changed and the walked back upstairs in my pjs. I placed my clothes in the hamper and walked over to Sherlock, who was rummaging through the closet. “Hey,” I murmured. “Take a break.”

  
  


    He shook his head. “No, I need to finish.”

  
  


    I frowned, but decided not to argue with him. I walked over to the bed, and moved the quilt back, “Thanks,” I murmured. 

  
  


    “For?” He questioned, turning slightly.

  
  


    “The gum.” I said, climbing into bed. “Wake me up if you find anything.”

  
  


    “Will do.” He said, then got straight back to work.

  
  


     I closed my eyes and let myself sink into sleep.

  
  


******************************************************************************************

 

    I felt the bed move slightly and opened my eyes. The entire room was pitch black, but I opened my eyes and looked around anyways. Rolling over, I realized that Sherlock had climbed into bed at some point and had just rolled over. I had stayed over a few times, and knew that he often spoke in his sleep, but it still caught me off guard. “No, stay back.” He whispered. “How… how did you get in here?” He went silent, then his hand flew out and he grabbed at my throat. 

  
  


    “Sherlock!” I stage-whispered, smacking his hand away. “Sherlock wake up!” He lashed out again, this time in the form of a punch, and making contact with my chest. “Sherlock!” I snapped, this time, it worked. 

  
  


    “Where am I?” he wondered aloud, then noticed me. “Evelyn?” He asked, the placed a hand on my face. As quickly as the touch was there, it was gone again. “Did I wake you?” 

  
  


    I nodded. “It’s alright, I need to go and get a drink anyways.” I sat up, but regretted it instantly. The room began spinning and I laid back down. 

  
  


    “You alright?” He inquired, sitting up. 

  
  


    “Just sat up too quickly.” I explained, sitting up again, slower this time. Once I was all the way up, I got out of bed and made my way down to the kitchen. I silently opened the fridge door. “Hello there.” A voice said, out of nowhere. Shrieking, I slammed the door shut and searched for the source of the voice, but found nothing. “I’m coming for you Evelyn,” The voice said. “Sooner or later, I will get you,” I knew that voice… “Evie, Evie, Evie, remember how you screamed for me?” I felt all color go from my face.  “My little Evie, you were so perfect.” He chuckled deeply. “I still have the DVD I burned from you that night.” 

  
  


    “Get out of here.” I breathed. “Go away!” 

  
  


    The voice chuckled. “I will never go away. I’ve been inside you in more ways than one.” He laughed once again. “And I still am.” He laughed maniacally. I picked up a cup and hurdled it where that voice was coming from. It shattered into a million pieces, shards flying everywhere. “Get out!” I screamed, hurdling another item, this time, smacking the cupboard. I picked up a frying pan and swung at the counter. I pulled back, preparing to swing again, but someone snatched the pan from my hands. I sank to the ground, sobbing. I heard a second, pair of footsteps, but didn’t care at this point. “Oh my goodness!” I heard Mrs. Hudson exclaim, running up the stairs. “Are you boys alright?” I heard her step onto the landing, then gasp. I felt myself being lifted up and didn’t fight it. I leaned into Sherlock as he carried me back up to bed, and cried into him. He placed me into bed and I pulled my knees to my chest and sobbed. He rushed out of the room and returned shortly after with tweezers. 

 

    He switched on the light, then sat at the end of the bed. “Let me see your leg. You have glass in it.” He gently grabbed my right leg and pulled it towards him. We sat there in silence as he pulled pieces of the cup out of my leg. I had stopped sobbing, but was still in shock. He got most of the pieces out, then examined my other leg. “I should let John get the rest out” He said, frowning. “I can’t get the last few pieces.” He stood with the intention of leaving, but I didn’t want him to leave me.

  
  


    “Please,” I breathed. “Please don’t go.” A tear escaped and slid down the corner if my face.

  
  


    He sat back down and placed a hand on my knee. “I won’t go, but I need to know what happened.”

  
  


    “I heard him.” I whispered, more so to myself  over Sherlock. “I heard his voice clear as day in the kitchen,” I felt more tears slide down my face.  “It wasn’t a recording, he conversed with me.” I sighed lightly, bringing my knees back up where they belonged. “He was taunting me… and I let him. I let him get to me.” I wailed, burying my face into my knees. 

  
  


    “Don’t blame yourself,” He said, matching my low tone. “He did something terrible to you, and it makes sense that you would-”

  
  


    “No.” I snapped. “I should have kept a level head!” I slid my arm down my leg, and then winced when I moved a shard of glass. “What happened was in the past.”

  
  


    A look of disbelief darkened Sherlock’s face. “He raped you.” He bellowed. “Do you really think you should be over that?” He stood and stormed out of the room, leaving me to my thoughts.


	7. Chapter 7

I heard a short knock on the door. “Hello?” John asked, “May I come in?”

  
  


    “Yeah.” I called, as normally as possible. My body was still shaking, but I couldn’t break down in front of John. He came in with a silver tray filled with medical supplies. He sat at the edge of the bed and grasped my leg. 

  
  


    “How are you feeling?” He asked, beginning to expertly pluck the remaining shards from my leg. “Do you want a pain killer?”

  
  


    “No,” I sighed. “I’m fine.”

  
  


    “Alright,” He smiled tightly. “Well,  Sherlock is literally ripping that kitchen apart looking for a bug, but he hasn’t found anything so far.” He plucked another shard out of my leg, then applied an alcohol wipe, then continued on. “What happened to you?”   
  


 

    “Well since you know he is looking for a bug, I assume he’s filled you in.” I snapped, wincing as he pulled another shard out. 

  
  


    John shot me a look, “It’s Sherlock, he didn’t tell me anything, he just began blubbering about a bug.” I ignored the statement and allowed the doctor to go back to work. After a while of working in silence, he speaks again. “I’m sorry,” He then pulls the last shard free of my leg and bandaged me up. He pursed his lips, a sentence about to spill out, but thought better of it, patted the bed and left the room. 

  
  


    I pulled out my phone and opened the last book I had read, picking up right where I left off. I read three chapters before the door opened. Mrs. Hudson walked in, placed a cup of tea on the nightstand, said goodnight and left. I waited a moment, then reached over and grabbed  the cup, sipping gratefully, the sliding back down into the covers. 

  
  


    My eyelids grew heavier by the moment, and I locked my phone and rolling onto my side. Just as I surrendered myself to the darkness, the door opened, but my eyes were closed so I didn’t see who it was. 

  
  


*************************************************************************************

 

    I rolled over, trying to escape the nightmare that had captured me in my sleep. I cried out, feeling tears fall down my face as I tried to escape. I finally woke up and found myself covered in sweat and tears. I rolled out of bed and marched down to the kitchen, oddly hungry. Once I saw the kitchen, I jumped back. John wasn’t joking, Sherlock had literally ripped it kitchen apart. “Oh dear Lord.” I cursed, shocked. 

  
  


    I looked around the kitchen, and found a stray apple, and took a giant bite. I did a 180, and made my way back to the living room, which was empty. I shrugged and decided to get dressed.  I made my way to the closet and grabbed my white halter top, black jeans, nude pumps and my black blazer. I grabbed my gold belt, black peacoat and made my way downstairs. I decided to go to the park and take a walk, so I flagged a taxi and was there relatively quickly. I paid, thanked the man and walked into the serene park. I smiled to myself, and placed my earbuds into my ears and began walking. 

  
  


    I took in the natural beauty and forgot everything from the night before. I spent about an hour walking around before coming across the fountain. I smiled as I saw two children, approximately 3 and 8 years old. The older child was a little boy, dark brown hair, baby blue eyes,  and the girl had bright red hair and even brighter green eyes. They had climbed onto the fountain and were splashing each other. As I walked closer, a miscalculation caused me to become soaked. I gasped and looked up at two now terrified children. 

  
  


    “Shirley! Charles!” The children’s mother scolded. “Be careful where you splash! I am so sorry miss.”

  
  


    “It is no problem at all.” I called back, smiling. I reached into the pond and splashed them back. The children giggled delightedly and they knew we had an understanding. 

  
  


    “Eve?” I heard Sherlock call. “Eve?”

  
  


    I looked around and saw him rushing over to me. “Sherlock?” I asked, curious as to why he was here. “What’s going on?”

  
  


    “I found it!” He was holding a tiny, clear item. “I found the bug!” He finally was standing in front of me and was so excited that he hugged me. “Mycroft can trace it. We’ve got him!” 

 

    “Thank god!” I replied, smiling broadly. “Have you gotten ahold of Mycroft yet?” 

  
  


    “No, we have to go see him.”

  
  


*************************************************************************************

 

    “Why should I indulge your personal affairs,” Mycroft asked, walking around his desk. “When you won’t even help with the tiniest case I offer you?”

  
  


    “Please, Mycroft, you owe me many favors.” Sherlock pointed out. 

  
  


    I decided to make my side known. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone who is close to Sherlock owe you a favor?”

  
  


    “John owes me many favors.” Mycroft reminded me. 

  
  


    “But,” John interjected. “He doesn’t fancy me.”

  
  


    Mycroft looked between Sherlock and I, but neither of us denied it. “My, my, my,” Mycroft shook his head and chuckled. “Have you finally found someone who will tolerate you, Shirley? Someone other than that psychotic Adler woman?”

  
  


    “Will you help me or not?” Sherlock asked, obviously getting annoyed. 

  
  


  “Yes little brother.” Mycroft smiled. “Give me the device.”

  
  


*********************************************************************************

 

    We pulled up to the address that Mycroft provided. It was a dark and cold warehouse, seemingly abandoned for many years. “Stay here.” Sherlock told me. 

  
  


    “Fat chance,” I said, getting out of the taxi. John had stayed with Mrs. Hudson to clean up the living room. I told the cab driver to head back to the city and gave a large tip for driving all the way down here, and waved him away. 

  
  


    Sherlock frowned, the walked closely to me. “Here.” He handed me a small revolver, “Be safe. Stay close to me.” I nodded and we went inside. 

  
  


    We entered the rickety building and were plunged into pitch black. I pulle dout my phone and turned on the flashlight as Sherlock did the same thing. We made our way up the stairs, then heard the laughter. “Sherlock Holmes!” A voice cackled over loud speakers. “I was beginning to think that you wouldn’t come!” He cackled again. 

  
  


    “Were you expecting me?” Sherlock asked. “Why?”

  
  


    “Because of her.” The voice sneered, suddenly the hallway filled with gas. I automatically held my breath and Sherlock grabbed my hand. We ran back the way we came, however a 6 inch steel door slammed shut, forcing us to run the other way. We took off in the other direction, but another identical door slammed shut.

  
  


    “Come on,” The voice jeered. “Don’t struggle, just breathe in. Breathe it in.”  He chuckled, and after a minute, we were forced to breathe in the gas. 

  
  


    “You should have stayed.” Sherlock wheezed, sliding to the floor. “I’m sorry.” 

  
  


    I slid down and fell on top of him. “My choice.” I said, He grabbed my hand, and we both fell into unconsciousness. 


	8. Chapter 8

    My head throbbed and my heart was racing. I was in a hard chair, probably wood, my wrists and ankles were tied down and my neck was sore. I had probably been lying there for hours.I resisted against the straps, but couldn’t go anywhere. I sat up, somewhat confused by what had happened, my head was swimming, but soon enough I remembered what happened. “Hello?” I called. “I know you’re listening.”

  
  


    “Oh,” The voice said, finally returning over the loudspeakers. “You’re finally awake. Guess it’s time for our movie date.” He laughed maniacally, just as I heard a projector turn on. A 9 year old me popped onto the screen, smiling and waving at the camera. I remembered that day, my father was filming on a camera he had just purchased. 

  
  


    “Hi, daddy!” I waved on the camera. 

  
  


    “Hello, princess.” My father said on the camera. “How old are you today?”

  
  


    “Nine.” I chimed, twirling in my dress. That’s when Randolph walked behind me on screen. He noticed us, smiled then waved, but his eyes never left me. Suddenly, the clip changed and it was me, sitting on Randolph’s bed. “No!” I yelled from the chair. Closing my eyes. “No, no, no,” I murmured, turning my head away. 

  
  


    “Maybe, you’d like to watch something else.” The voice wailed, I heard a click and opened my eyes, this time, my parent’s house appeared on screen. The camera zoomed in on a small bomb placed on the wheel of their car which was parked right next to the house. 

  
  


    “I’ll watch it!” I wailed, straining against the seat. “I’ll watch your video.”

  
  


    “Technically,” He sneered. “This is another video of mine, however, I will flip the channel back for you.” The video switched back to me, sitting on his bed. “Now, remember,” He said, tsking. “You must watch the video entirely, or I may want to wish an action film.” He laughed at his own horrible joke. 

 

    I focused on the video, and attempted to disassociate myself, but it wasn’t working. 

  
  


    “It’ll be alright,” Randolph said, walking over to the bed and placing his hand on my hair. “I just want to teach you a new game.”  He hand slowly lower to my younger self's cheek. “It’s a fine game, with treats at the end.” He smield sickly into the camera. “Treats all around.”

  
  


*******************************************************************************************************

 

    I cringed as my younger self screamed on camera. “Please, stop! It hurts!” My little voice screamed. “Please! Why are you doing this? It hurts!”

  
  


    “Just, sit still!” Randolph snapped, smashing my head into the bedframe, I remember seeing stars, but what I didn’t remember was the blood that trickled down my face. “Don’t you want your treat at the end?”

  
  


    “No!” I wailed, smacking at him. “Please, stop! You’re hurting me! You said it was fun!”

  
  


    “It is!” He smiled, then gasped. “Ready for your treat?”

  
  


    I was able to block out the rest of the video. It only lasted a few minutes longer,but it was a special kind of torture, but once it was over, I heard clapping come from the back corner of the room. “Hello, princess.” He said mockingly. Randolph dropped the fake British accent in favor of his natural American one, then stood in front of me. “Are you ready to film part 2?”

  
  


*************************************************************************************************

  
  


    I was drugged. He forced me to drink a spike soda which left me with fleeting memories of what was happening while additionally giving me no chance to fight back, it also messed with my sense of time. “No, more.” I groaned, as he backed away from me. I could sense his smirk. He had more in store for me. 

  
  


    “You’re right.” He chortled. “3 hours is enough for you.” He smield sickly and opened a door i didn’t know was there. 

  
  


    “No!” I whispered as he led a kid inside. 

  
  


    “Shirley,” Randolph said sweetly., “Do you remember the game we played?” 

  
  


    “It wasn’t fun.” She frowned, tossing her red hair to the side. “You promised that it would be fun.”

  
  


    “Now it will be.” He walked over to me and undid my restraints. “Evie here will made sure of it.” 

  
  


    He pulled me out of the chair and I fell to the floor, feigning exhaustion. “Come on!” He snapped. “Get up!” He hoisted me to my feet and leaned me against him. I subtly reached into his pocket, and grabbed the syringe I noticed earlier. He placed me on the floor, next to Shirley. 

  
  


    “I remember you.” She said, appalled. “You were at the park, you were nice.”

  
  


    “I...am nice,” I told her. “You need to tell me… has he hurt you?”

  
  


    “The game we played hurt.” She frowned. “He-”

  
  


    “I know!” I cut her offer, groaning. “How old are you?” 

  
  


    “Just turned 5.” She told me, beaming with pride. She was definitely small for her age.”My birthday is January 13th. Or maybe 14th…” She trailed off. 

  
  


    “A bit young for you.” I remarked, becoming more furious by the moment. “Why are you doing this?”

  
  


    “You ruined my life!” He laughed. “You ran to mommy and daddy and told them what happened! I had to leave the country!”

  
  


    “You tainted me.” I snapped, new adrenaline coursing through me. The pain took a backseat as my anger flourished. “You have made me terrified of the world, terrified to make meaningful connections, made me hate my body and-” he slapped me across the face. I gasped and looked back at him. “I haven’t had a single relationship, I cannot trust any man I meet, you rap-” He punched me in the face. I turned back up, spit out some blood and smiled at him. Sidney gasped as she saw the blood on my teeth. “You took my one and only so far. You weren’t even that good from what the others have told me. You are a despicable person.” He kicked me and shoved me to the ground. 

  
  


    “It’s an illness!” He cried. “Pedophelila is an illness. I am sick!” He kicked me three more times.

  
  


   “Yes,” I agreed. “But it doesn’t mean you have to hurt people.” I winced as I breathed in. I had at least one broken rib. “Have you touched your children?”

  
  


    “How dare you!” He screamed, grabbing my hair and climbing on top of me. “I don’t even have children! WHy would I ever-”

  
  


    “Your nails have slight flecks on neon pink nailpolish on the corners, obviously removed somewhat quickly with remover, but you missed a bit, I assume your daughter did that, how old is she? 5, 6? The same as poor SIdney over there?” Sidney was now crying in the corner. “Why do you want to hurt children? Are you a sociopath? A sadist?” He roared with anger at my accusations. “So I assume that you have touched your-” He pick up my head, that's when I reacted. I reached up quickly and slammed the needle into his neck and pushed the plunger down. 

  
  


    “Bloody bitch!” He screamed, his years in England showing in his rage. He slammed my head into the ground as he swayed. I cried out with each strike.  _ One, two three...four…….five _ . He was becoming drowsier, clumsier. I was also seeing stars. “You…” He said, crawling away, then collapsing on the floor. 

  
  


    “Shirley…” I wheezed, turning to the weeping child. I felt blood run down the back of my neck. “Call 112. Find a phone,” I felt my vision going. The edges of my vision were black. She shook her head and sobbed more. “Listen…” I wheezed, crawling closer. “I need help. You need to run. Go...over to him, find a phone….” She shook her head again. I felt a tear run down my face. “Then run.” She looked at me, then the twitching man on the floor. She looked at the barely ajar door, then ran. “Good,” I sighed. Then I turned my body around and tried to make my way to the man on the floor.

  
  
  


    It became much harder to breathe the farther I got, my vision was all but gone, but I still pressed on. I finally made it to the body and patted it down. No phone. “No!” I cried, falling to the floor. I looked around, and found a desk about ten feet away. I crawled over, but when I was about three feet away, I felt a sharp pain in jy chest and cried out, collapsing on the spot. My body had enough.I closed my eyes, and began crying. I didn’t want to die, not like this.

  
  


    “Evelyn!” I heard someone call, very far off, but still in the building. I opened my mouth to yell, but nothing came out. I honestly couldn’t tell if it was Sherlock, or John, however I knew both would be listening intently, so I brought my leg off and tore off the shoe. I looked up, aimed the best I could, and threw. 

  
  


    It hit the corner of the desk and clamored to the ground. I heard another shout “Evelyn?” I laid there, unable to breathe, and hoped they would find me in time. 


	9. Chapter 9

    “Evelyn?!” The shout was closer this time. I saw slight movement from the corner of my eyes. “Evelyn!” It was John. “I found her!” He called, running over to me, then kneeling beside me. He listen for a moment, then stood back up. My body was creaming for air, however it felt as though an elephant was seated on my chest. John rushed back, having found the syringe, cleaned it on his shirt, then plunged it into my chest. Suddenly the weight was gone and I gasped for breath. 

  
  


    “Evelyn,” He breathed a sigh of relief as I heard footsteps approaching. “An ambulance is on it’s way.” He looked me over as my vision came back slightly. “You look…”

  
  


    “Beaten?” I wheezed. “Wasn’t... a fair... fight.” I grinned with my blood stained teeth. “Did get….him in the...neck.” I coughed, sending blood everywhere. 

  
  


    “Eve!” Sherlock yelled. Seeming shocked by the blood. “What happened?” He bellowed, John blocking his view of me. 

  
  


    “Sherlock.” John said, warningly. “You should wait outside, you don’t need to see-” Suddenly more footsteps filled the room. Sherlock sidestepped John and I could have sworn I heard him gasp. John spoke quietly. “Massive head trauma, massive blood loss, collapsed lung, bruises all over.” I blinked a few times, feeling like I was floating above my body. “Hey, Evelyn, you need to stay awake.” I closed my eyes for a moment, then opened them once again. I heard the footsteps of the paramedics growing closer. “Evelyn!” John yelled as I closed my eyes. 

  
  


    “Believe it… or not….John…” I wheezed. “My face… hurts...hell...my whole body hurts… let me close my eyes…” I coughed. “I’m not… passing out…”

  
  


    Sherlock chuckled lightly, then kneeled closer to me. “Here,” He grabbed my hand. “Just keep squeezing, so we can tell if you lose consciousness.” I squeezed as hard as I could.. “Can you squeeze any harder?” Sherlock asked. He sounded like he was crying. 

  
  


    “No.” I breathed. 

  
  


    “That’s alright.” Sherlock replied and now I was certain he was in tears. “That’s quite alright. In here!” He called to the paramedics who swooped in. John began filling them in as they lifted me off the ground. 

 

    “Are you family?” A paramedic asked. 

  
  


    “Yes,” Sherlock answered as they hoisted me upward. “Husband.”

  
  


    I snickered, but had no response and wanted someone with me. As I was rolled out of the building, I dropped my hand from Sherlock’s and let myself go, just for a little while.

  
  


********************************************************************************************************

  
  


    I opened my eyes in a white room. The pain was gone, but there was a pressure on my leg. I looked down and saw curly black hair resting on my leg. “Hey,” I said softly, bouncing my leg. “Hey,” I cooed again, yawning. 

  
  


    He jumped to life, turning to me instantly. “Eve.” He breathed a sigh of relief. He stood and came up to my face. “How do you feel?”

  
  


    “Alright.” I moaned. “Considering the circumstances.” I looked up at him. “You look like hell.”

  
  


    He smiled. “Thanks”: He leaned down and kissed my forehead briefly. “You scared me.”

  
  


    “How long?” I asked. 

  
  


    “You’ve been here for two days.” He made a face. “You flatlined three times. They had to operate, your ribs were pressing too much on your lungs, you had a fractured skull, broken cheekbone, you’re covered in bruises, he drugged you and your lungs are scarred from the poison more than we thought… he also…you know. But the doctor thinks you are out of the woods.”

  
  


    I sighed and he placed a hand on my cheek. “What about you?” I asked. “After we were gassed?”

  
  


    “He drove to the nearest marina and sent me out on a rowboat.” Sherlock explained, running his thumb up and down my cheeks. “I am so sorry I let this happen to you.”

  
  


    “It wasn’t your fault.” I replied, leaning into his touch. “So you’re my ‘husband’?” I chuckled. 

  
  


    “Well.” he said, removing his hand. “You flatlined three times, which means you died three times. I believe marriage is only until ‘death do us part’. So,” He chuckled, pulling the chair back up. “We are not married anymore.” I laughed, then coughed, then laughed again. He grabbed his water from the tray and handed it to me. “Although, maybe we should make it official. We already share a bed.”

  
  


    “Only in a previous life.” I joked, then frowned. “What happened to Randolph?” I asked.

  
  


    This caused Sherlock to frown as well. “While he was placed in an ambulance, your heart failed for the first time, and he slipped away. The syringe had a sedative in it, which was specifically for you, since you are a lot smaller than him, it wore off much more quickly.” I felt my body grow cold very quickly and my heart rate spiked on the monitor. “However we can worry about that at another time.” 

  
  


    “But he needs to be-” Just as I was about to argue my point, a nurse came in. 

  
  


    “Oh,” She said, startled. “You’re awake. I need to go and fetch your doctor.” She walked out again, and within a mintue, a man in a lab coat walked in. 

  
  


    “Hello,” He said, walking to the end of the bed and grabbing my chart. He flipped a couple of pages, then checked the machines. “Well you seem to be healing correctly. Are you in any pain?” He questioned, examining my black and blue body. 

  
  


    “Nope.” I said, watching his movements. 

  
  


    “Well, you should be able to be discharged soon.” He smiled, then placed the chart back into the holder. “You are very lucky.” The doctor said. I nodded and he left. 

  
  


    I was discharged the next day. Sherlock did not leave my side the entire time. Once we finally got back to 221 B Baker street, I climbed the stairs with some difficulty, but made it to the top at a reasonable rate. Once I made it to the top, Sherlock reached forward and opened the door for me. We both sighed as we saw a small group of people gathered inside. “Oh dear lord.” I whispered, then put a big smile on my face. John was there, along with his girlfriend Mary, Mrs. Hudson was there, so was Mycroft as well as Lestrade. 

  
  


    “Um, hello.” I said politely, standing halfway in the doorway. “Why are you here?”

  
  


    “It’s a ‘welcome home’ gathering.” Mrs. Hudson explained, as if a was dense. “You scared the living daylights out of us.” 

  
  


    I stood there, not sure what to say next, but thankfully, Mary spoke up. “We brought cake.  Would you like a slice?”

  
  


    “Certainly.” I answered, making my way over to her. She smiled and we walked over to the kitchen. 

  
  


    “How do you feel?” Mary asked, concern filling her hushed tone. 

  
  


    “High as a kite.” I replied truthfully. “I’m still aching all over, but I’m alive.” ‘I grabbed a plate from the counter and brought it over. “I’m just happy the child got out.”

  
  


    “Thank heavens for that.” She smiled sweetly and placed a small slice on my plate. Then placed a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll catch him.”

  
  


    I heard John and Sherlock speaking in whispered tones, and as I turned I saw that Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson were standing awkwardly by the window. I walked over to Lestrade and decided to make him feel a bit less awkward. “Hello.” I greeted. “Have any new cases?”

  
  


    “Do you really think you should be working so soon after…” he trailed off. 

  
  


    “I’ll be fine in a few days. Painkillers are a miracle.” I chuckled. 

  
  


    Lestrade frowned. “You really need to take it easy. John’s filled me in. You’ve had a crazy week, almost died a few times.” He lowered his voice. “What about you and Sherlock?”

  
  


    I still hadn’t sorted out what to do about that, so I did what any self-respecting girl would do. I coughed like a madwoman until John ushered Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson out. As soon as I heard the front door close, I stopped and sat down on the couch. Mrs. Hudson excused herself leaving me, John, Mary and Sherlock. 

  
  


    “Will you call if you have any problems?” John asked. “Mary and I have a date tonight, we’ve had reservations for weeks.”

  
  


    “I will.” I answered. “Go off, have fun.” John nodded, and the happy couple left. Sherlock then sat on the couch next to me. 

  
  


    I laid down and pulled the coffee table close, opening the laptop. It was John’s. I typed in the password and went straight to Netflix. Curious as ever, Sherlock leaned over and peeked at what I was doing. “Really?” He asked. “You have nothing better to do?”

  
  


    “Lestrade wouldn’t give me a case.” I pouted, scrolling through the Tv shows.

  
  


    “You really thought that he would?” He scoffed. 

  
  


    “Do you have any reading materials?” I questioned.

  
  


    He stood and walked over to the bookshelf. “I have many.” I frowned and stood, walking over to the desk which contained the case files. I was about to open the drawer when a hand stopped me. “You need rest.” Sherlock said, gently pulling my hand away, but not letting go.

  
  


    “I need work. I need a distraction.” I turned and scowled at him, despite my face screaming for me to stop. “You understand.”

  
  


    “Only if you do me a favor.” He said, sliding in front of me and blocking the drawer. I raised a brow in response and waited. “Give me an answer.”

  
  


    “Well,” I feigned an offended look. “We were married.”   
  


 

    “I’m not the one who died.” He quipped. I walked forward and embraced the man, allowing him to decipher the answer on his own. He chuckled and still made me say it. “That’s not an answer.”

  
  


    “Yes.” I sighed, finally giving in. 


	10. Chapter 10

    It had been a rough week. John had all but moved out, I was healing quickly, and had since completely moved into the small flat with the boys. Sherlock had refused most cases, trying to make sure I healed properly. Finally, we started coming back to a normal schedule. I had been up and down all night due to terrible memories which were resurfacing as horrid nightmares and happened to be sitting up in bed when he got back. I heard his footsteps and stood up to greet him. As I walked out the door, I jumped and was startled by a stranger. I reached down to my robe pocket and grabbed a small collapsible staff. I swung it out and it snapped into place almost silently. He frowned and held up his hands, but I swung. 

  
  


    He reached up to block his face and I struck his forearm as hard as possible. He grunted and I threw my leg up and it connected in his groin. The man cried out and slammed into me, throwing me to the floor. I gasped for breath, but threw the staff back up and struck him in the face. By this time Sherlock had woken, armed himself and come to the door. He had a gun trained on the man, the sighed, lowered it and help me up.

  
  


    “What on Earth are you doing here?” He demanded to the man, breathlessly. “And why are you sneaking into my home?” He then leaned to me and whispered. “Go and get some clothes on.” I looked down at my silk, nude colored nightgown and frowned. I turned and walked back into the room, closing the door. I rushed over to the dresser and grabbed a pair of blue jeans, a grey v-neck t shirt and a grey cardigan. I then slid on flats  and made my way out into the living room. Sherlock was in his chair, John’s chair was open for me and the mystery man was in his own chair. They were sitting in silence, it seemed like Sherlock had said something that the man didn’t like. I sat down silently and waited along with them. Finally, the man spoke. 

  
  


    “I am sorry for shoving you ma’am.” He said.

  
  


    I made a face. “Who the hell are you?” 

  
  


    Sherlock was smiling as if he was a child who just got away with something devious. “Evelyn, this is Mitchell Robbins, an old friend from America.”

  
  


    I got slightly stiff when I heard  _ America _ , but caught myself and relaxed. “And?” I asked, leaning back, closing my eyes.

  
  


    “He has a case for us.” Sherlock said, getting slightly giddy. “Go, on, tell her.”

  
  


    He sighed. “I found half of a head in my freezer at work.”

  
  


    “Where do you work?” I questioned, reaching over to Sherlock as he handed me a notebook. 

  
  


    “That’s the fun part.” Sherlock answered. “He works at the American Embassy.”

  
  


**********************************************************************************************

  
  


   He gave all of of the relevant details, then left us to our work. He had been able to take the head to a hotel without anyone noticing, so we would be heading over to the hotel room at about 8 am. 

  
  


    “Why not head over there right now?” I asked, watching him get up and begin making tea. “You seem excited to get this case.”

  
  


    “It’s three in the morning.” He said, as if I hadn’t noticed. “It’s an ungodly hour to be doing much of anything.”

  
  


    I scoffed. “What has that ever stopped you before?”  I stood from the chair and followed him to the stove top. “You are only the biggest jerk I have ever known.”

  
  


    He frowned deeply and turned to me. “Jerk?”

  
  


    “Asshole?” I chuckled. “Is that what you would prefer?”

  
  


    He made a face, then changed the subject. “Where did you get that staff?” 

  
  


    I sighed. “A few years back I made a trip to China and met an old, ancient woman who crafted it for me using magic.”

  
  


    He turned to me, extremely confused. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again.

  
  


    “I bought it online,” I chuckled, pushing his arm.

  
  


    “Why did you feel you needed it?” He asked, then held up a finger to stop me from answering. “You felt unsafe due to your childhood horrors-”

  
  


    I rolled my eyes. “Amazing deduction detective.” I cut him off, annoyed. 

  
  


    “In America.” He finished. 

  
  


    Instead of confirming or denying his allegations, I walked past him and into the bedroom, laying back down in bed. I laid there, staring at the wall for about an hour before he came back in. He placed a cup of tea on my nightstand, then climbed onto his side of the bed. “How did you figure out?” I whispered. 

  
  


    “Your accent wasn’t completely correct, you slip up and say ‘apartment’ over ‘flat’, your style, the face that, despite knowing you for years, I haven’t found any of your close family in England. You know the laws pretty well, but while driving you always have to think about which side of the car you are getting in on. You instinctively use the imperial system over metric, and you are nowhere to be found in any primary school records. “ 

  
  


    I rolled over and looked him in the eye. “How much time did you spend looking for me?” 

  
  


    “A few months.” He admitted, then pulled me close to his chest. “I’m sorry. But you know how I am. The first thing that tipped me off was your accent. It’s pretty good, obviously you’ve been living here for a while, but it wasn’t perfect.” He kissed the top of my head. “I need to go and finish some research, Mitchell sent me some photographs and I think I’ve identified our victim. Wanna come?” 

  
  


    I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. “Why not?”

  
  


    We walked out to the living room and Sherlock grabbed the laptop, then sat on the couch. I followed, and sat next to him, leaning on his shoulder. “This,” He said, clicking on a jpeg. “Is our head.”

  
  


    The photo appeared and it was a sight. It was half of a head, cut straight down the middle. There was half of everything inside, expect a brain. That cavity was missing. “Where is the brain?” I asked, looking up at him. 

  
  


    “Wasn’t there.” He shrugged. “I’m pretty sure it’s with the rest of the head.” He then clocked on a different picture and a middle aged man popped onto the screen. “This is James McRoy, a wealthy businessman who quietly went missing a month ago.”

  
  


    “Twin?” I asked.

  
  


    “It’s never twins.” He shook his head. “Body double.”

  
  


    “How long has he been working for Mr. McRoy?” 

  
  


    “Six years. No one is really noticing the difference. His double would often stand in and do meetings when Mr. McRoy didn’t wish to attend.” I yawned and readjusted, trying to get more comfortable as possible. “Get some sleep, this will still be here when you wake up.”

  
  


    “No,” I blinked a few times, attempting to force myself to stay awake. “I’m fine.”

  
  


    “How much have you slept tonight?” I stayed silent. “Three hours?” He question, but still I remained silent. “Two?” He paused. “How many nights have you gone without sleep?” 

  
  


    Standing abruptly, I sauntered over to the kitchen and grabbed another energy drink from the fridge, popped it open and drank it in fours large swigs. I walked back into view of the detective. “Let’s get to work.”


	11. Chapter 11

    We walked up to a lavish hotel. As we walked inside, I looked around, my jaw dropped. “The Milestone Hotel.” Sherlock whispered. “Mitchell is up in the Buckingham Suite”

  
  


    I raised a brow, but followed him to the elevator. We traveled up, up, up...and up some more. As we stood awkwardly in the elevator until Sherlock coughed. “Are you alright?” I asked, watching for any of his tells. 

  
  


    “Fit as a fiddle.” He said, hoarsely. 

  
  


    I frowned, but dropped it for now. The elevator dinged and  we walked down the hall until we found the room. Sherlock knocked twice, paused, then knocked four times, then paused again, and finally knocked one more time. There was no answer. He looked into the peephole and frowned. “He’s not in there.” He tried the handle, then looked at the lock. “I can’t pick it.” He growled, annoyed. 

  
  


    “You stay here, I”m going downstairs and I’ll get a key.” I said, turning to walk away. 

  
  


    “How are you going to do that?” He chuckled. “I’d even have an issue getting one.”

  
  


     I smirked, leaned back and kissed him, then went back to the elevator, stepped inside, and prepared for my performance.

  
  


*******************************************************************************************************

  
  


    I worked myself up, pulled my shirt down, and smudged my eyeliner. The elevator dinged, and I rushed out, I power walked to the desk. “Sir?” I cried, using my American accent. “I need your help! My son and I are visiting my brother up in the Buckingham suite, I was going to get some ice from down the hall, and I forgot my keycard!! He’s only one, so he can’t open the door, and my brother is out sightseeing!” I sobbed, lowering my chest, giving him a clear view of my cleavage. 

  
  


    The man was taken aback. He didn’t know what to say, but his eyes lingered on my chest. “I’m sorry, but I’m not supposed to give out new key-”

  
  


    “Please!” I cried, shaking my chest. “I can’t have my brother find out. I’ll bring the key right back! The longer I’m away… the more…” I cried loudly, no doubt attracting attention. 

 

    “I, um” He said, still looking at my chest. “I guess.” He swiped a key and handed it to me. 

  
  


    “Oh,” I cried, reaching over and wrapping my arms around the shocked man. “Thank you!” I kissed his cheek, and ran straight to the elevator.I pressed the button and the doors closed. 

  
  


********************************************************************************************************

  
  


    The doors opened and I walked over to Sherlock, who was sitting on the floor, looking annoyed. “Got it.” I said, speaking normally, swiping the card. The door beeped and opened.

  
  


    Sherlock stood. “How on Earth did you get that?” I turned and handed it to him. “Are you alright, have you been crying?”

  
  


    I walked into the room. “Yes, and yes, I was able to get the key because- Sherlock!” I yelled, and he came running. The room was covered in blood, everywhere. I rushed over to the body lying on the bed. I checked for a pulse on the right arm, but found none. The face was so disfigured that I couldn’t tell if it was Mitchell or not. 

  
  


    Sherlock was right behind me, looking everywhere. “Call Lestrade.” He said. “THis has just gotten more interesting.”

  
  


********************************************************************************************************

  
  


    “What brought the two of you here?” Lestrade asked, gaping at the amount of blood.

  
  


    “An old friend of mine.” Sherlock said, smelling the pillows on the bed. “He asked us to meet him here about another case.” 

  
  


    “What case?” Lestrade asked, turning to me, “I thought you were taking a break.”

  
  


    “We were,” I said. “But Sherlock got excited and couldn’t tell me no.”

  
  


    Lestrade frowned again. “How did you get here?’

  
  


    “Taxi.” I replied. :It’s a bit far to walk.

  
  


    “No,” Lestrade sighed. “In here.” He had turned to Sherlock. “What did you do?”

  
  


    Sherlock stood and looked offended. “Ask her what she did.”

  
  


    Lestrade turned to me. “He’s a bloody bad influence.”

  
  


    “I just asked.” I said, shrugging. Sherlock chuckled, and I knew he had looked at the security tape.  I felt the ache returning in my head and turned to Lestrade. “I hope you’ll excuse me, but I need to be heading home, my pain meds are wearing off.”

  
  


    Sherlock perks up, but continues looking at the bed. Lestrade nods, and I leave the men to their work. 

 

****************************************************************************************************

  
  


    I popped the pill bottle open, and the two Oxycodone fell out of the bottle. I placed them in my mouth, and downed them with another Rockstar, my third today. I sat down in Sherlock’s chair, and opened my book, and that’s when I noticed it.

  
  


    I stood, grabbed my staff from my pocket, and snapped it into place. I crouched down and walked into John’s old room, where the door was swinging precariously. I made my way inside, then stood and snapped the staff back into its collapsed position. 

 

    “Renee!” I snapped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  
  


   My sister frowned and placed her hands on her hips. “Aren’t you happy to see your baby sister?”

  
  


    “No, no I’m not.” I snapped. “You need to leave.”

  
  


    She frowned and walked closer. “And what am I to do? I’m 19, alone and in a need country. I need your help.”

  
  


    “No.” I snapped. “Get. Out.”

  
  


    She frowned deeply. “You know, Mom and Dad would love to hear from you.” She brushed past me, heading for the door, then stopped and spun on her heel. “Can I borrow… she pulled out her phone and typed in a number. “ 121 pounds?”

  
  


    I frowned, pulled out my wallet and threw 150 pounds at her. “How did you even find me?”

  
  


    She smirked. “I saw a photograph of you with the detective. It wasn’t hard to track this place down.”

  
  


    “Who let you in?” I demanded as she ran down the stairs. I didn’t get an answer. 


	12. Chapter 12

    Lestrade was correct, Sherlock was a terrible influence on me. By the time he got home, the wall had four new bullet holes and I was laying on the couch, swinging the gun around. I aimed the gun at his head, then lowered it when I saw it was him. John came up the stairs right behind him. “What are you doing?” John cried, grabbing the gun from my hand. I let him, and kept staring off into space. 

  
  


    “Who was here?” Sherlock demanded.

  
  


    “Don’t worry about it.” I snapped. “What happened with the case?”

  
  


    “Well,” John said, putting the gun in the desk drawer. “That was Mitchell Robbins.He was tortured and the head was nowhere to be found.  However, the American government is now involved because the head was found on US soil.” He shook his head. “We tried to get into contact with Mr. McRoy’s business, but they refuse to respond.”

 

    While John filled me in, Sherlock was rushing around the apartment, attempting to deduce who had been here. “Sherlock, it’s no one you know.” I called out. Then turned to John. “Sorry about the mess in your room.” John opened his mouth to say something, then stopped, then just decided it’d be best to leave us to our quarrel which was sure to begin soon.

  
  


    “Evelyn.” Sherlock said, quickly losing his patience. “Who. Was. Here.”

  
  


    “Just someone I grew up with. I took care of it. They shouldn’t be back.” I stood and stared up at him. “Can you just trust me?”

  
  


    He shook his head. “Someone was in our home.”

  
  


    “Renee.” I blurted out before I could stop myself. “My sister Renee.” 

  
  


    He pulled out his phone and typed a few things in, then turned it to me. “Is this her?” A recent picture of my sister was on hi phone. I nodded and he groaned. “The police are looking for her, and so are we. She was seen fleeing  the hotel just an hour before we arrived.”

  
  


    “What?” I asked, astonished. “She just turned 19, graduated high school, had average grades at best, and honestly probably hasn’t been in the country for long.”

  
  


    “Well,” Sherlock said, looking back down at his phone. “She seems to have an iq of 135. Due to that, she was accepted to every college she applied to.” He frowned. “Is your entire family highly intelligent and lazy or is that just you?”

  
  


    “Ass.” I said, brushing past him and grabbing my jacket. 

  
  


    “Where are you going?” He asked. 

  
  


    “Deduce it.” I said, more upset with myself over him. I slammed the door behind me, and went right where I knew she would be. I turned left and she was standing there, just waiting. She opened her mouth to greet me, but I grabbed her arm and tugged hr back in front of the door. “Don’t say anything.” I growled. I hailed a cab and we climbed in. “New London Cafe.” I said, then turned to my sister. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I demanded, then lowered my voice. “Why were you at a murder scene?”

  
  


    “What are you talking about?” She whispered, giving me a pleading look. “I just got here last night.

  
  


    “The murder happened this morning.” I snapped. “Why are you really here, other than to annoy me.”

  
  


    She sighed, “I got into a bit of trouble back home.” 

  
  


    Suddenly the car jerked right. “Sir,”  I said. “You were supposed to take a left.” I got no response. “Sir?” I asked, leaning forward. The man turned his head away from me. “You arse!” I shouted as he pulled over. “What are you-” As the car stopped I slammed into the seat. 

  
  


    “Sorry.” He said, still looking away. 

  
  


    I threw open the door, grabbed my sister’s arm and yanked her out of the car. “Who is that?” she asked.  

  
  


    “Don’t worry about it.” I snapped, pulling her away quickly. I heard another car door open and dodged down an alleyway, then a side street, and finally climbed up to a balcony. Once I was sure he had lost us, we climbed down and began walking normally. Once we finally made it to the cafe, we sat at a table and I leaned over. “You need to explain, now.”

  
  


    “Only after you explain who that was.” She snapped. Pulling out her phone. I sighed as I felt someone walk up behind me and place a hand on my shoulder. 

  
  


    “Renee, meet Sherlock, Sherlock, Renee.” I shook my head as he took a seat. 

  
  


    “You were the taxi driver?” She asked, astonished. “I didn’t even see you leave the apartment.” 

  
  


    “It’s very nice to meet the lesser Buckner sister.” He reached his hand across the table in an attempt to shake it, but she didn’t raise her hand to meet his. “Now,” He smiled brightly, then retracted his own hand. 

  
  


    “Are you really as good as they say?” She asked. “You can take one look and know everything about a person.”

  
  


    I opened my mouth to explain how he isn’t 100% correct all of the time, but he beat me to it. “Better.” He bragged.

  
  


    “Do me.” She said.

  
  


    He looked at her for a moment, then began talking a mile a minute. “You are a 19 year old loner who is a compulsive texter, Kleptomaniac, you owned three cats, two dogs, and came over from America last night-”

  
  


    “You heard that from the-” She attempted to cut him off, but he spoke over her. 

 

    “Both your parents have disowned you, the longest relationship you’ve had lasted two months, ended when you slept with his dad.” My sister blushed wildly and looked to the floor. “Then you began a month long relationship with one Mitchell Robbins.” He watched her reaction carefully. “You technically did just arrive in the country last night, but you’ve been on this continent for over a month. You’ve been at the Embassy.”

  
  


    “Is this true?” I demanded, leaning forward. She stayed silent and I had my answer. “Why the hell are you here?”

  
  


    “The head was sent to her.” Sherlock said. “She was sleeping with James McRoy.”

  
  


    “He’s twice my age!” I shouted, standing up and pushing my chair back, “You’re barely legal!” I coughed a few times as my heart began racing. “What is wrong with you?” 

  
  


    She stood, mirroring my movements. “Well when your sister makes up stories about being-” 

  
  


    I reached across the small space and slapped her across the face. “What happened at the hotel.” I demanded, trying to calm down. “Did he walk in on you?”

  
  


    “No.”

  
  


    “Did he find out and get jealous?”

  
  


    “NO.”

  
  


    “Did he-”

  
  


    “I found him dead!” She stage-whispered. “Then I went to find you.” She was shaking now. “I told that old bat about it, and she let me up.”

  
  


    I smacked her again. “Don’t talk shit about Mrs. Hudson if you want help.” Sherlock was just sitting there, watching intently. I coughed again, and this time some blood came out. I wiped it away, then stared my sister down. “Use that money and get a hotel room. Please, don’t come to my home again. I’ll call if I need anything.” I walked away and covered my nose which I knew was bleeding. I out the door and turned a corner, then pulled a tissue out of my pocket. 

  
  


    “Your lungs acting up again?” Sherlock asked, walking around the corner. 

  
  


    “I’m fine.” I said, slightly annoyed. “Let’s just head over to the embassy.” 

  
  


    “She sleep with your past loves?” He asked, waiting for me to clean myself up.

  
  


    “What?” I shouted. “What are you talking about?” 

 

  
     “You guys had some kind of falling out.” It wasn’t a question. 

  
  


    “To the embassy!” I said, leading the way, forcing him to follow. .

  
  


     “Hold on.” He said. I turned, ready to ask him to drop it when he handed me a pamphlet for Aqua Shard, a high-end restaurant. “I have a reservation for 9 o’clock.”

  
  


    “Seriously?” I asked. The narcissistic smile on his face answer my question. I got up on my toes and kissed him. He smiled and offered his arm. I took it, leaning into him. “But first, we need to solve this case.”

  
  


    “Oh,” He said. “I’ve also figured most of it out.” 

  
  


    “Wait, what?’

  
  
  



	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly fluff in this chapter. I am delighted with how much you guys seem to like it. Feel free to comment any ideas/ suggestions and let me know if you don't like anything, or if I forgot to update the warnings, (thanks to Anon for pointing out the underage one). Thank you for reading, and let me know if you would be interested in me posting a link to my other account where I post original stories. Thanks, love you guys!!!

    The embassy was a bust. Try as we may, no one would let us in, despite the fact that I was a dual citizen.We had to give up, and go back to the drawing board. But that had to wait. Tonight was ours. “Dress up or down?” I asked, turning back to face the detective sitting on the bed we shared. 

  
  


    “It’s ‘smart casual’.” He informed me. 

  
  


    “So basically get dressed for court?” I asked, grabbing my pencil skirt out of the closet, followed by my blazer and laying them on the bed. I frowned, then grabbed my light pink blouse, land laid it down with the rest of the outfit. I grabbed all three items, and made my way to the bathroom. 

  
  


    “You have an issue getting dressed in front of me?” He questioned.

  
  


    “I have an issue as to where it may lead.” I called back, closing the door and stripping. I then pulled the shirt over my head, stepped into the skirt, pulled it over the long shirt and zipped it up. Looking into the mirror I knew I had to do something with my hair. I grabbed a hair donut from my pink bag on the side of the tub and made a messy bun on the lower part of my head. I pulled some of the longer, curlier red hair out and framed my face. I smiled, satisfied with the look, then placed the blazer on my arm and opened the bathroom door. Sherlock was standing there, and quickly pulled me into his arms and kissed me passionately. I leaned into it, then pulled away as I flashed back to the night we were gassed. 

  
  


    He smiled knowingly, and kissed the top of my head. “Go finish getting ready. I’ll call a taxi.”

  
  


    I rushed back into the room and looked around until I found my pink pumps. I put them on my feet, then stood and picked out my accessories.  [ http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=215346344 ](http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=215346344) Once I was ready, I walked back into the living room. Sherlock was in the bathroom, so I stood by the door and waited. While I stood there, my phone rang and my mother’s picture popped up. I quickly ignored it, but she called back. I ignored it once again, so this time she texted me. 

  
  


**_Mrs. Buckner: Evelyn Elizabeth Buckner, answer your phone._ **

  
  


     I rolled my eyes and typed a short and quick response. 

  
  


**_Evelyn Buckner: On a date._ **

  
  


    Just as I was going to put my phone in my clutch, it buzzed once me. 

  
  


**_Mrs. Buckner:  A date? With who?_ **

  
  


    I shoved my phone into my clutch just as the door opened. Sherlock had changed into a suit that he didn’t wear too often and had slicked his hair back. He smiled when he saw me, then reached up to the coat rack and handed  me my black peacoat. We smiled at each other and walked down the stairs, ready for our night.

  
  


********************************************************************************************************

  
  


    “So,” I smiled, putting my wine down. “You think that you’ve solved the case.”

  
  


    “We can talk about that in the morning.” He said. “You’ve been through a lot and deserve a night out.” He cocked his head to the side. “Now let’s not talk about work, what else do you want to speak about tonight?”

  
  


    “Let’s talk about… school.” I suggested. 

  
  


    “Alright,” He said, leaning forward. “Where did you go to school?”

  
  


    “I went to the county public school.” I explained, leaning back in the chair. “I’m sure you know all about my grades.”

  
  


    “Excelled until middle school, then gave up when you moved here.” He said. “Now why is that?” He leaned forward, asking. “You have an above average intelligence, but just didn’t want to do the work?”

  
  


    “I didn’t want any ties to my American self.” I said. “That’s another reason why I  adopted the accent so quickly.” I shook my head. “I moved here when I 16, I had emancipated myself, called in some favors with my grandparents who got me settled here with a cousin.” I sighed. “I just wanted change.”

  
  


    “Rightfully so,” Sherlock said. 

  
  


    “Now, let me hear some more about you.” I said, leaning forward, intrigued.

  
  


    He chuckled awkwardly and sipped some of his wine. “I don’t have many fun stories to tell.”

  
  


    “My stories aren’t fun, or even happy.” I pointed out. “‘I know about you old habits, your brother, John, your job.” I picked up my cup and took a sip of it, then placed it back down.

  
  


    He leaned back in his chair and smirked at me. “What happened with your sister?”

  
  


    “You really don’t know? Britain's greatest detective doesn’t know?” I chuckled. “Do you really need to know?” I asked, sobering up a bit. He nodded solemnly. “She was in a relationship with Randolph. She enjoyed his attention, and when I came forward after what he did to me, she defended him, told them that I lied, and made up excuses after excuses to the point where she tampered with evidence that I had.” I shook my head. “She then began acting out and sending photographs online, looking at horrible things, I believe she killed my dog, Max.” He perked up at that, but didn’t respond. “Once I was able to become emancipated, I did.”

  
  


    We were silent for a while, and they brought the food out quickly. We ate, and decided against dessert. And made our way outside where it had begun snowing. “I love snow,” I said, twirling around in a circle, but I slipped and thankfully Sherlock caught me by my arm. I laughed and leaned into him. 

  
  


    “I have something for you, now, “ He helped me balance, then pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to me. “I hope you like it. We already made it official…”I opened the box and a ring glinted in the low light. “But you need a ring.”

  
  


    I reached up and hugged him tightly. “You didn’t have to.”

  
  


    “Do you like it?” He asked. “Now, the tradition of giving rings is from an advertisement and-”

  
  


    “I love it.” I said, kissing him on the lips, pushing the horrible flashbacks from my mind.  [ http://engagementringsdepot.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/Best-Heirloom-Engagement-Rings-small-pieces-diamonds-shiny.jpg ](http://engagementringsdepot.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/Best-Heirloom-Engagement-Rings-small-pieces-diamonds-shiny.jpg) “Thank you.” I said. “Can we walk home and enjoy the snow?”

  
  


    “Of course.” He said, offering his arm once again. I put the ring on my finger and we walked off into the night.


	14. Chapter 14

    By the time we made it back to the apartment, my nose was numb and I was beginning to feel a burning sensation from my fingertips. We opened the door and were greeted by some nice, warmer air. I sighed, sliding my jacket off and walking up the stairs. “Thank you.” I told him. “Tonight was amazing.” 

  
  


    “It was my pleasure.” He said, hanging his jacket up as well. I ripped off my shoes and threw them across the room. He reached across and wrapped his hand around my waist and pulled me into a passionate kiss. I stood on my tip toes and pressed myself into him, biting his lower lip. In response he lifted me off the ground and hugged me even tighter. We broke off then, and he placed me back on the ground. 

  
  


    “The night is ours.” I sighed, pulling him down to my level. We kissed again as I wrapped my arms around his neck. He pulled away and I frowned, releasing him. 

  
  


    “I think it’s too soon.” He said, wrapping his arms around me. I reached up and kissed him again, and this time he spoke in between breaths. “Not.Tonight.”

  
  


    I groaned, annoyed. “Why can’t you be the selfish asshole I know you are and just…” I traied off, pressing my body against his.

  
  


    He took a shaky breath and bit his lip. “Eve, you need time, you and John are the only two-”

  
  


    “John isn’t here.” I breathed, kissing his neck. “Can’t you just trust me?” 

  
  


    He groaned, thought for a moment, then picked me up and walked over to the couch. He sat down with me on his lap and I leaned in, ready to kiss him again. “No,” He said, ,his voice straining, “Not tonight. It’s only been a week, and you need more time.” He pulled my head into his chest and just held me there. “Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

  
  


    “I’m not the one who’s hard.” I grumbled, causing him to laugh. I rolled my eyes and leaned into him. Do you mind if I go and put some comfortable clothes on?”

  
  


    “Only if you do me a favor,” He said, placing his chin on my head. “Actually get more than an hour of sleep tonight. You can’t keep living off a caffeine high.”

  
  


         “Says the addict.” I chuckled, standing and quickly heading to the closet and grabbing a pair of yoga pants and my grey v neck t shirt from that morning. I paired it with the same grey shawl, then reached into the back of the closet and grabbed one of my hidden energy drinks. I walked over to the bed and placed it under the pillows and popped the top. Putting the pillows back into place, I chugged as much of it as I could, then placed it back in the closet and shut the door. I took a deep breath, then turned to walk back out there, but froze when I saw Sherlock standing in the doorway. 

  
  


    “Hand them over. “ He placed his hand out and waited. 

  
  


    “I am a grown woman. It’s just a Rockstar.” I said, frowning. “It’s not drugs.”

  
  


    “Evelyn, trust me, you need sleep. Plese, give them to me.” he said calmly.  I frowned, opened the closet back up,  grabbed the opened can and plalced it in his hand, then walked back out to the living room and threw myself down onto the couch. He came and sat next to me, then leaned his head on my chest and sighed. I raised my hand and placed it in his dark curls, running my thumb up and down his temple. “Eve…” He whispered. 

  
  


    “Shhh,” I said, leaning into the corner of the couch. “It’s alright. Let’s just enjoy the rest of tonight.” He tipped his head up towards my face and placed a whisper of a kiss on my cheek. I placed my hand on his back and pulled him up to me. My lips met his and he was gentle at first, but quickly became much more urgent as he devoured me. He climbed over me and held himself up by placing his arms on either side of the couch. I wrapped my arms around his torso and pulled him down towards me. 

  
  


    He moaned then pulled back. “Eve, we need to stop.” I frowned, then pulled him down even farther. Now he was hovering just centimeters above me. “Eve,” He warned. 

  
  


    “I know, I know.” I pouted. 

  
  


    “Believe me, I really want to,” He grinned turning red. “However I would rather wait until you have healed more.” He used his right hand and traced a line along my healing bruises. I had been covering them with makeup, but some had come off. He kissed me once more, then stood and offered his hand. I took it and he began humming. He began swaying with me, and before long we were wrapped in a dance, the music playing in our heads. I leaned into his chest and listen to his heart beating. 

  
  


    “Sherlock?” 

  
  


    “Hmmm?” He replied, holding me tighter.

  
  


    “What are we going to do about my sister? The embassy?” I asked, attempting to brainstorm. 

  
  


    “Trust me,” He chuckled. “I have a plan for both of them.”

  
  


*******************************************************************************************************

  
  


    I woke from my sleep with a jolt, causing Sherlock to stir. “Shhhh,” I said, standing from bed and walking to the kitchen. Pulling out a chair, I sat and placed my head in my hands. I quickly checked my watched, then swore to myself. It was 2 am and we had just gone to bed an hour earlier. I went back to the bedroom and silently opened the closet. I grabbed a pair of black slacks, a white button up top, then a blazer and my black oxford heels. Silently, I made my way to the restroom and changed, putting my hair back into a french braid and doing my make up.

  
  


    Once I walked out the door, it was three in the morning. I was finally going to use this time wisely. 

  
  


******************************************************************************************************

  
  


    “Renee!” I called, banging on her door. “Renee, open up!” I waited a moment, still hearing nothing. “Renee!” I kicked the door this time, and was successful. I heard someone roll out of bed and hit the floor hard. 

  
  


    “What the hell?” She said, throwing the door open. ”What are you doing here?”

  
  


    “I need help breaking into Mr. McRoy’s home.” I said. “Are you game?”

  
  


    “Why should we break in?” She asked. “He and I were together-”

  
  


    “And I doubt his family knew about it. So we need to break in.” I looked around the room. “I have lock picks, leather gloves and my staff. We-”

  
  


    “We don’t need any of those.” She said, annoyed. “I have a master key.” She rummaged through a drawer in the nightstand, then tossed a small silver object to me. I caught it, and pocketed it.

  
  


    “Finally, you’re putting your sluttiness to use.” I grumbled as she got dressed. 

  
  


    “Where is your friend?” She asked innocently. 

  
  


    “Sleeping. I presume. Like an normal person.” I sighed and pulled my phone out of my pocket. “I’ll know if he wakes up.”

  
  


    She grimaced, then pulled her pants up and slid on some shoes. “Ready?”

  
  


    “I brought my landlady’s car.” I informed her. “It’s the red one,”

  
  


********************************************************************************************************

  
  


    “Who the hell is you landlady?” Renee asked as I sped down the street. 

  
  


    “Mrs. Hudson.” I said, speeding up even more. “She is an amazing lady.” I saw that we were supposed to turn left, pulled the handbrake and skidded into the correct spot on the road. I pressed the pedal to the floor as the first few raindrops fell onto the windshield. 

  
  


    I parked the car a few streets down in an abandoned shed. We closed it up behind us and walked the rest of the way. I checked my phone, no new texts or missed calls, but now it was 4 in the morning. I made sure my phone was on silent, and made sure that her’s was on silent as well. It was only a ten minute walk and Renee knew exactly which door to go through. She lead me to a white glass door and gestured for me to open it. I fished the tiny silver key out of my pocket and put it into the lock. I turned it slowly and the lock retracted. Renee grasped the doorknob and slowly turned it, the door swung opened without a squeak I creeped inside and I grabbed my phone, turning on the flashlight. 

  
  


    “Where is his office?” I asked, checking a hutch in front of me. There was nothing interesting to I turned my attention to my sister. “Where is it?” 

  
  


    “Through the dining room, up the spiral staircase, then its either the second door on the left or right, I can’t remember.”

  
  


    “Great.” I grumbled, following my sister through the dining room. We creeped up the stairs, then walked into a long hallway. “I’ll check the left, you check the right.”  She nodded and I turned the doorknob, the door creaked slightly and I winced as it swung the rest of the way. Just as I shined my light, I saw someone sit up and I hit the floor. I slid toward the bed and leaned against the headboard. 

  
  


    “Hello?” A shaky voice called. I held my breath as I heard the quilt move and a pair of feet hit the floor. They padded over to the door and closed it, mumbling about how he knew he had shut the door correctly, then climbed back into bed and rolled over and sighed. I waited a few minutes, then slid back to the door and popped it open, sliding back out and closing the door behind me. I shot across the hallway and threw myself into the office, closing the door silently behind me. 

  
  


    “What are you doing?” I demanded as I watched my sister trash the immaculate office space. 

  
  


    “Looking for clues.” She threw her arms up and glared at me as if I was stupid.

  
  


    “That’s not how-” I growled, ready to lay into my sister, but the door flew open. I hit the ground as a gunshot went off. “The window!” I shouted, grabbing the rope from my shoulder bag. Renee dove out of it first, shattering the glass. “Shit.” I cursed. If I cut myself, I would leave DNA behind, she probably has cut herself, so she was a lost cause.

  
  


    “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” The voice from the bedroom sang. “I won’t hurt ya.”: He chuckled. Silently I slid under the desk, listening for his footsteps. “Where are you?” I thought quickly and decided to take my chances with the window. I took a deep breath and ran.

  
  


    Four gunshots went off as I latched the rope to the railing outside the window and rappelled down. I grimaced as the rope snapped and I fell the ten feet to the ground. I gasped for air and rolled over, stood and began running, despite coughing madly. I heard one last gunshot before diving into the trees behind the house. 

  
  


   I hobbled the backway to the car as my right shoulder began throbbing terribly. After a half an hour, I finally made it back to the car, Renee was nowhere to be found. I sat in the car, and just as I leaned back, pain shot through my back and I jerked forward, roaring in pain. My hand few to my shoulder, and they came back red, and sticky. “Son of a bitch!” I yelled, hitting the steering wheel with my left hand. I pulled out my phone and saw that it was 4:34, but still had no missed calls. I unlocked the phone and called Renee’s phone, which went off in the seat next to mine. The longer I sat there, the worse the pain became. I waited for five minutes, but she never showed. I cursed, and turned the car on, leaving that house, and my sister, behind.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will try to keep updating, however I have an odd living situation and am currently going between two houses. The one I stay at during the week is having WiFi issues and I have a very limited data plan so if I do not post throughout the week, I will post a long chapter on the weekend. Thanks for understanding.

    I knocked on the door for a good minute before getting any response. I became annoyed and started banging it harder, ‘I’m coming!” John shouted. “Jesus why are you-” He stopped yelling once he saw me standing there, a puddle of blood forming on the stairs. “What happened?” He asked, ushering me inside. 

  
  


    “Stood at the wrong end of a gun.” I groaned as he sat me on the couch. 

  
  


    He ran off to grab his bag, and that’s when the texts began.

  
  


**_Sherlock: Where are you? I woke up and you aren’t here._ **

  
  


**_Sherlock: How long have you been gone?_ **

  
  


**_Sherlock: Answer me. Please._ **

  
  


    John returned with the bag and put gloves on. He instructed me to remove my blazer which was much more painful than expected. Once we peeled that off, he went to work on my shoulder as I texted Sherlock. 

  
  


**_Evelyn: I’ll be back soon, went for a walk, couldn’t sleep._ **

  
  


**_Sherlock: When did you leave?_ **

  
  


**_Sherlock: Your pjs are in the hamper._ **

  
  


**_Evelyn: Just a little bit ago. I’ll be back soon._ **

  
  


    I bit my lip as he pulled the bullet from my flesh. “Where were you?” John questioned as I pulled away from the alcohol wipe. 

  
  


    “Working on a case.” I explained.

  
  


    “At this hour?” He raised a eyebrow, but continued to patch me up. 

  
  


    “Had to chase down a lead.” I started to shrug, then stopped myself. “I’m sorry to wake you up so early.”

  
  


    “It’s fine.” He said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. I felt the pressure and automatically knew that I was getting stitches. 

  
  


**_Sherlock: Mrs. Hudson just informed me that you have her car. Where are you?_ **

  
  


    I frowned as John did the last stitch. “You should be good to go.”

  
  


    “Thanks John.” I smiled, then turned, hugging the man. 

  
  


    “No problem,” He said. “Do you need a ride to baker street? I can call a cab.”

  
  


    “It’s alright.” I said, “I have Mrs. Hudson’s car.”

  
  


    “Mrs. Hudson has a car?” He asked, looking out the window. 

  
  


    “I parked down the street.” I said, making my way to the door. “Thank you, again.”

  
  


********************************************************************************************************

  
  


    I took the stairs two at a time, trying to be as silent as possible,however I failed miserably. I stood in front of the door for a moment, took a deep breath, smiled and threw it open. “I come bearing doughnuts!” I bellowed, holding out a container of doughnuts I purchased at the store. When I received no response, I called out. “Sherlock?” Just as his name escaped my lips, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and looked down. 

  
  


**_Sherlock: At crime scene, someone broke into Mr. McRoy’s home this morning. Come at once. SH_ **

  
  


    I rolled my eyes and went into the bedroom, needing to change clothes. I had found an old sweater in Mrs. Hudson’s car, and had thrown that over my ruined shirt and blazer to hide the blood from Sherlock. Just as I reached in to grab a shirt, my phone buzzed again. 

  
  


**_Sherlock: At once does not mean change, Evelyn._ **

  
  


**_Evelyn: Did you bug the flat?_ **

  
  


    I did not receive a response, so I grabbed the first outfit I saw, then changed and tossed the ruined shirt and blazer into the fireplace. I started a fire and watched it roar to life, engulfing the clothes. I watched it for about ten minutes, letting it put itself out, then replaced the guard and grabbed my purse. Checking the flat once more before closing the door. 

  
  


    I hailed a cab, and gave them the address, silently cursing myself for being so careless. I felt my sister’s phone go off in my pocket, but I ignored it, pushing my guilt aside. We arrived after a silent 15 minute drive, I thanked the man, paid him and he drove off. I sauntered up to the house, and knocked on the front door twice, using my left arm. A uniformed officer opened it promptly and beckoned me inside. “He is upstairs miss, the door is open.”

  
  


    “Thank you.” I said, smiling. I walked through the living room, into the dining room, and traveled up the staircase I had snuck up just hours before.I swallowed hard and made my way down the hallway, then turned into the opened room, seeing Sherlock spin about as he recreate the crime scene. 

  
  


    “There were two suspects here last night.” He said. “One here, standing over the desk, and one under the desk. The one standing over the desk,” He threw his hands just as Renee had as he continued. “For some reason, they made a mess, causing the man across the hallway to investigate. He claims to have heard two hushed voices, one with an  American accent. He is certain that the American was female, and she threw herself out the window.” He ran over to the window, looking down at the ground. “She hit the ground and rolled, but she will still be sore. IT looks like she fled to the west.” He gazed off, then whirled back around, gesturing to under the desk. “Now, the second suspect tried to wait him out, but gave up once he got closer, they attached a rope to what was left of the window, which broke their fall, but they will still be sore today.” He looked up and nodded, acknowledging me. “He thinks he shot them, but we haven’t found any blood other than the girls’ in the backyard. The second suspect most certainly ran the other way, so they may not have been together.” He frowned, handed a pen to one of the officers and came over to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “So how did you sleep, love?” He asked, squeezing me. 

  
  


    “Well enough.”  I answered as he led me to the hallway.

  
  


    He squeezed even tighter. “How much sleep did you get?” He smiled down to me and I could see it in his cocky expression.    
  


 

    “You already know.” I groaned, shrugging him off. That’s when he grasped my hurt shoulder with his right hand and squeezed. I whimpered.

  
  


     “I know you hurt yourself.” He said, releasing me. “It’s just a matter of how. But I am not certain about how long you slept. It’s anywhere from three hours to one hour.” He watched my reaction the scowled. “An hour? You are going to drop dead soon enough.” He licked his them, then wiped under my left eye, taking some of the makeup off with it. “You need sleep.”

  
  


    “I’ll survive.” I snapped. “So who was the guy who was here? Was it a body double?”

  
  


    “The main one, yes. He has been living here for over a year, he also claims that someone was in his room last night.” He was watching my face, so I tried to react correctly. “Do you know where your sister is?” He questioned, pulling out his phone. “I have been trying to reach her all morning.” He dialed the number, and I every muscle in my body tensed up.

  
  


    “No idea.” I said. “Haven’t seen her since the cafe.”

  
  


    “Eve.” Sherlock said, looking me in the eye. “I love you- but you need to get better at lying to me.” He pressed send and the phone vibrated in my pocket. “Hand it over.”

  
  


    I rolled my eyes and bit my tongue. “No, it’s my sister’s. When I went out this morning, I stopped by her hotel room. I must have grabbed her phone on accident.” It wasn’t really a lie, so I was hoping that he wouldn’t catch on. He grabbed my shoulder again and I wiinced. “Would you stop doing that?” I snapped, swatting his hand away.

  
  


    “What did you do? Pull a muscle?” He asked, watching me intently. “Worse.” He said, mostly to himself. Just as he was about to assess me, Lestrade called him over. Sherlock pulled a face, but followed the Detective Inspector. With my newfound freedom, I walked over to the desk and began rummaging through it.  _ Nothing, damn. _ I thought, annoyed with myself.  _ Where would I hide something incriminating…  _ I surveyed the room and noticed a tall bookshelf, overfilled with old books. I walked over to it, studying the books, then noticed one that wasn’t as dusty as the other. I reached up and grabbed it, just as the body double walked in.

  
  


    “What are you doing?” The imposter snapped,walking over to me. 

  
  


    I feigned offense. “How can you have-” I glanced down at the book. “A first edition of The Madison Terrace and leave it on the shelf like this?” I opened the book and was about to flip through it when he snatched it from me. I winced slightly as the sudden motion pulled on the stitches.

  
  


    “Please do not touch the books.” He said, replacing it, but looking up two shelves at another book. He eyed it for a moment, then walked off. 

  
  


    “Alright then.” I said, turning to Sherlock and Lestrade. I opened my mouth to speak, but Sherlock cut me off. 

  
  


    “We are taking a trip to the victim’s business.” He told me, then practically ran out of the room.

  
  


******************************************************************************************************

  
  


   As soon as the cab door was closed, he pulled the corner of my shirt, exposing my shoulder. “What the hell?” I demanded, pulling it back up, however he had already seen the blood. 

  
  


    “Bloody hell.” He said, “What-” He tried to pull at my shirt again, but I smacked his hand away with my left hand. 

  
  


    “Please stop.” I said, sitting back. “It’s just a scratch.”

  
  


    “You’re bleeding through your shirt.” He said, pushing me forward and yanking the shirt down and examining me. “When did you get shot?”

  
  


    I cringed. “Just, leave me be.” I begged as he adjusted the gauze.

  
  


    “You were the one who broke in.” He stated, slightly annoyed. “Why did you let yourself get shot?”

  
  


    I gaped at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t move faster than a speeding bullet.” I yanked away from him, leaning my head on the windows. 

  
  


    “No, I merely meant-” The driver slamming on his brakes cut us off. “Bloody hell, man!” He shouted, leaning forward. 

  
  


    “Sorry sir,” The man said with a scottish accent. “The car in front of me-”

  
  


    Sherlock opened the door and stepped out, “Here,” I said, severely overpaying the man. I stepped out and saw Sherlock standing there. I passed him and began walking in the direction we had been going. I pulled out my phone and typed the address into Google Maps and we went along our way.

  
  


    “Why didn’t you inform me about your nightly escapades?” He demanded, glaring at me. 

  
  


    “Why does it matter?” I demanded, turning to him, my face burning with rage. “I am an adult, if I want to go do something, I will do it!”

  
  


    “Well next time do something more intelligent.” He snapped, getting in my face. “It is not too difficult to avoid getting shot!”

  
  


    “I was trying to help!” I shouted, growing angrier by the second. “Is that so terrible?”

  
  


    “When you go about it as a moron, yes! Next time, wait for someone with at least an average intelligence to assist you!” 

  
  


    I opened my mouth, closed it, then spun on my heel and began walking away. I was furious, and just needed to get away. I hailed another taxi, climbed into the back seat and told him. “221B Baker street.”

  
  


    Once we made it outside the apartment, I leaned forward. “Please wait for me, I just need to grab a few suitcases.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I had this chapter all typed out, but it got corrupt and I had to re-do it. Thanks for the wait, love you guys!

     I stepped out of the cab and took the stairs two at a time. Frowning, I opened the door and saw John standing there on the phone; he was speaking in hushed tones, but covered the bottom and turned to me. "Are you alright?" He questioned. Feeling guilty, I pushed past him without responding. I grabbed my luggage from under the bed and opened it, leaving it on the bed. I turned around and waked over to the closet as I heard John walk up behind me. "Evelyn?" He asked, placing a hand on my uninjured arm. "What's going on?"

 

 

      "John, I just need time to think, alright?" I shrugged him off and grabbed an armful of clothes, then placed them in the luggage. I was about to turn back to the closet, but a frightening thought crossed my mind. I dumped the bag out and ran my hand along every inch of it, searching for the small device that I _knew_ would be there.

 

 

     "What happened?" He asked.

 

 

      "Nothing." I whispered. "Don't worry." I smiled in his direction as I found the tracker. HE had attached it to the handle, and I had to use my pocket knife to pry it off.

 

 

      John frowned. "You must know by now that he's an ass, so it can't have been something he said." I felt him watching my face for any clues. "It is something he said."

 

 

     I shook my head as I grabbed more of my stuff, putting it all in the bag. "No, it's how he said it." Once I had most of my clothes, I reached under the bed and grabbed my black bag, and shoved it in on top of everything else. "Ever since I met him, he's been somewhat kind to me. He’s never spoken down to me. This time he said it like... I was a normal person." I said, shaking my head. "Now I may be reading too much into it, but he never snapped at me like that." I zipped the bag up and pulled the battery out of my phone. I smiled sadly at him, and then left the apartment.

 

 

***

 

 

     "Can you drop me off at a gas station?" I asked the driver.

 

 

     "Are you sure?" He asked. "I know where the hotels-"

 

 

     "I'm sure." I said. "Thank you."

 

 

     The man grunted in response, but did as I asked. We pulled up in front of the first gas station we saw. I paid him and got out, grabbed my luggage and went inside. I nodded to the worker and made my way to the public bathroom. I locked myself inside the handicapped stall and unzipped my luggage, grabbing my back bag. I unzipped that as well and pulled out my clip-in purple highlights. I put them in, then pulled out the make-up and piled it on. Dark pin-up eyeliner, red lips, and I even had glasses with fake lenses. I put those on as well, and then grabbed a red and black dress out of my bag. I changed and paired those with black wedges, a black leather jacket, and tights. Finally I tossed my hair up into a half-up half-down hairstyle and exited the gas station before the shop keeper could ask why I changed.

 

 

     I flagged down another taxi and had them bring me to a shady looking hotel. I thanked the man and walked inside, gripping my staff that I had shoved up my sleeve. "Hello." I said to the receptionist, adopting my American accent. "I need a room for tonight.”

 

 

     "Single or double?" He asked, looking me over.

 

 

     "Single." I answered.

 

 

     He smiled creepily up at me and I glared back. He told me the fee and gave me the key card. I paid and made my way down the hallway and into my room. I closed the door behind me and locked the deadbolt. Still not satisfied, I grabbed my custom-made portable lock from my bag and applied it to the door. Finally satisfied I sat down on the bed and leaned back. I was felt guilty, but knew I needed to get away for a while. I closed my eyes and let my body finally relax.

 

 

   ***

 

 

     The next morning, after a lot of television, I checked out and moved to a much better hotel. I made myself at home in the much nicer room and spent a lot of time in the indoor pool. I allowed myself to relax, knowing that Sherlock would show up sooner or later. However I was slightly disappointed when he showed up two days later.

 

 

      I woke up to the chair at the desk squeaking quietly. I tensed as I sat up, but then relaxed once I saw Sherlock's coat. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as he played with the notebook in his hand. "Purple streaks; please tell me they're fake."

 

 

     "Why?" I yawned, stretching.

 

 

     "They make you look very young." He frowned, and then put the notebook down.

 

 

     I started fishing through my hair, pulling the synthetic purple from my scalp. "That's the point." I scowled as they tugged on my natural hair. "I didn't expect you so soon."

 

 

     "Well, considering everything, you really shouldn't be alone." He glared at me. "I convinced Mr. McCoy to not press charges on anyone who broke in, so we don't have to worry about that."

 

 

     "So it is still 'we'?" I asked, pulling the final highlight out of my hair.

 

 

     Sherlock look genuinely confused. "You're still wearing your ring and John was convinced that you were coming back. Should it not be 'we'?"  My eyebrows knitted together and I searched his face for an indication of what he was feeling, but to no avail. I stayed silent, but averted my eyes and stared at the sheets. "Evelyn, why did you leave?"

 

 

     I opened my mouth, and then closed it again, feeling incredibly stupid. I blushed, but then blurted out: "Why did you snap at me as if I was some murder suspect?"

 

 

     "What are you talking about?"

 

 

     "After we got out of the taxi." I explained. "You've always been more... human around me. But during that last fight, I was stuck dealing with the Sherlock Holmes that criminals get to see." I shook my head, wincing as the gauzed moved and pulled at my healing wound. "We've fought before, a lot, but you've never adopted that tone with me."

 

 

     He frowned deeply and his eyes softened. "Am I not allowed to be concerned about your safety?"

 

 

     "That was concern?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

 

 

     "Yes." He snapped, standing from the chair. "But you won't talk to me about what happened. I have to deduce it for myself. Then after being called to a crime scene, I realize that you tried to rob a suspect, then you were subsequently shot and John had been the one to patch you up!" He was yelling now. "You also used Mrs. Hudson's car and no one told me!" He came closer. "I should have been your first phone call!" I stayed silent as he towered over me, seething. "And to top it all off, when I find out, you leave." He was quiet now, his voice barely a whisper. "I gave you your space for three days, per John's request. Can you please come home now?"

 

 

     I stayed silent as a tear fell down my face. "I'm sorry." I whispered. "I didn't mean to cut you off, it just got out of hand quickly."

 

 

     He sat down on the bed and reached out for my hand. "Will you come home today?" He asked again, stroking his thumb along my hand.

 

 

     "If you answer one question for me, I will." I said. He watched my face and nodded. "How did you find me?" A cocky smile spread across his face as he stood and reached into my black bag. He fished around and produced a tracker. "Ass." I said, smiling to myself as he came back and sat on the bed with me. "Have you solved the case yet?"

 

 

     "Almost." He said as I leaned into his chest. "I still need to break into the embassy though."

 

 

     "When are you planning on doing that?" I asked, closing my eyes.

 

 

     "I still need to figure out how to do it." The frown in his voice was obvious. "I could use some help."

 

 

     I felt myself begin to fall asleep, and just sighed in response.

 

 

     "Did you even try to catch up on your sleep these past few days?" He asked, chuckling. I groaned as I jerked myself back awake. "How much-"

 

 

     "Two hours." I yawned as I felt him lean back into the bed. "Sher-"

 

 

        "Hmmm?" He asked, chuckling. I felt myself go limp and fall asleep, listening to his steady heartbeat.

 

 

***

 

 

     I opened my eyes and was instantly confused, the room was pitching black. I groaned and rolled over, finding Sherlock next to me. I smiled as I watched him breathe evenly and took in his boyish features at their most relaxed. I took a deep breath and moved closer to him. He took a deep breath and turned in my direction. "Room's paid for. You deserve a bit of a vacation." He kept his eyes closed, but smiled. He reached up and put an arm around me. He then moved closer and placed a kiss on my forehead.

 

 

     "I need to go to the loo." I said, sitting up. "I'll be back in a moment." I rolled off the bed and stood. Turning back, I saw Sherlock sit up. "What?" I asked. "Don't you trust me?"

 

 

     "Nope." He said, honestly.  I rolled my eyes and quickly used the bathroom. I came back and he smiled up at me. “You didn’t  leave.”

 

 

     “Thanks for having so much faith in me. “ I smiled, and sat down on the bed next to him. “Are you tired?”

 

 

     “Why?” He asked. “Do you want to do something else?”

 

 

     Instead of answering his question with words, I leaned in and placed a tentative kiss on his lips. He grabbed the back of my head and pulled me in closer, his lips more aggressive. He pulled me onto him and the night wasn’t so bad anymore.

     I stepped out of the cab and took the stairs two at a time. Frowning, I opened the door and saw John standing there on the phone; he was speaking in hushed tones, but covered the bottom and turned to me. "Are you alright?" He questioned. Feeling guilty, I pushed past him without responding. I grabbed my luggage from under the bed and opened it, leaving it on the bed. I turned around and waked over to the closet as I heard John walk up behind me. "Evelyn?" He asked, placing a hand on my uninjured arm. "What's going on?"

 

 

      "John, I just need time to think, alright?" I shrugged him off and grabbed an armful of clothes, then placed them in the luggage. I was about to turn back to the closet, but a frightening thought crossed my mind. I dumped the bag out and ran my hand along every inch of it, searching for the small device that I _knew_ would be there.

 

 

     "What happened?" He asked.

 

 

      "Nothing." I whispered. "Don't worry." I smiled in his direction as I found the tracker. HE had attached it to the handle, and I had to use my pocket knife to pry it off.

 

 

      John frowned. "You must know by now that he's an ass, so it can't have been something he said." I felt him watching my face for any clues. "It is something he said."

 

 

     I shook my head as I grabbed more of my stuff, putting it all in the bag. "No, it's how he said it." Once I had most of my clothes, I reached under the bed and grabbed my black bag, and shoved it in on top of everything else. "Ever since I met him, he's been somewhat kind to me. He’s never spoken down to me. This time he said it like... I was a normal person." I said, shaking my head. "Now I may be reading too much into it, but he never snapped at me like that." I zipped the bag up and pulled the battery out of my phone. I smiled sadly at him, and then left the apartment.

 

 

***

 

 

     "Can you drop me off at a gas station?" I asked the driver.

 

 

     "Are you sure?" He asked. "I know where the hotels-"

 

 

     "I'm sure." I said. "Thank you."

 

 

     The man grunted in response, but did as I asked. We pulled up in front of the first gas station we saw. I paid him and got out, grabbed my luggage and went inside. I nodded to the worker and made my way to the public bathroom. I locked myself inside the handicapped stall and unzipped my luggage, grabbing my back bag. I unzipped that as well and pulled out my clip-in purple highlights. I put them in, then pulled out the make-up and piled it on. Dark pin-up eyeliner, red lips, and I even had glasses with fake lenses. I put those on as well, and then grabbed a red and black dress out of my bag. I changed and paired those with black wedges, a black leather jacket, and tights. Finally I tossed my hair up into a half-up half-down hairstyle and exited the gas station before the shop keeper could ask why I changed.

 

 

     I flagged down another taxi and had them bring me to a shady looking hotel. I thanked the man and walked inside, gripping my staff that I had shoved up my sleeve. "Hello." I said to the receptionist, adopting my American accent. "I need a room for tonight.”

 

 

     "Single or double?" He asked, looking me over.

 

 

     "Single." I answered.

 

 

     He smiled creepily up at me and I glared back. He told me the fee and gave me the key card. I paid and made my way down the hallway and into my room. I closed the door behind me and locked the deadbolt. Still not satisfied, I grabbed my custom-made portable lock from my bag and applied it to the door. Finally satisfied I sat down on the bed and leaned back. I was felt guilty, but knew I needed to get away for a while. I closed my eyes and let my body finally relax.

 

 

   ***

 

 

     The next morning, after a lot of television, I checked out and moved to a much better hotel. I made myself at home in the much nicer room and spent a lot of time in the indoor pool. I allowed myself to relax, knowing that Sherlock would show up sooner or later. However I was slightly disappointed when he showed up two days later.

 

 

      I woke up to the chair at the desk squeaking quietly. I tensed as I sat up, but then relaxed once I saw Sherlock's coat. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as he played with the notebook in his hand. "Purple streaks; please tell me they're fake."

 

 

     "Why?" I yawned, stretching.

 

 

     "They make you look very young." He frowned, and then put the notebook down.

 

 

     I started fishing through my hair, pulling the synthetic purple from my scalp. "That's the point." I scowled as they tugged on my natural hair. "I didn't expect you so soon."

 

 

     "Well, considering everything, you really shouldn't be alone." He glared at me. "I convinced Mr. McCoy to not press charges on anyone who broke in, so we don't have to worry about that."

 

 

     "So it is still 'we'?" I asked, pulling the final highlight out of my hair.

 

 

     Sherlock look genuinely confused. "You're still wearing your ring and John was convinced that you were coming back. Should it not be 'we'?"  My eyebrows knitted together and I searched his face for an indication of what he was feeling, but to no avail. I stayed silent, but averted my eyes and stared at the sheets. "Evelyn, why did you leave?"

 

 

     I opened my mouth, and then closed it again, feeling incredibly stupid. I blushed, but then blurted out: "Why did you snap at me as if I was some murder suspect?"

 

 

     "What are you talking about?"

 

 

     "After we got out of the taxi." I explained. "You've always been more... human around me. But during that last fight, I was stuck dealing with the Sherlock Holmes that criminals get to see." I shook my head, wincing as the gauzed moved and pulled at my healing wound. "We've fought before, a lot, but you've never adopted that tone with me."

 

 

     He frowned deeply and his eyes softened. "Am I not allowed to be concerned about your safety?"

 

 

     "That was concern?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

 

 

     "Yes." He snapped, standing from the chair. "But you won't talk to me about what happened. I have to deduce it for myself. Then after being called to a crime scene, I realize that you tried to rob a suspect, then you were subsequently shot and John had been the one to patch you up!" He was yelling now. "You also used Mrs. Hudson's car and no one told me!" He came closer. "I should have been your first phone call!" I stayed silent as he towered over me, seething. "And to top it all off, when I find out, you leave." He was quiet now, his voice barely a whisper. "I gave you your space for three days, per John's request. Can you please come home now?"

 

 

     I stayed silent as a tear fell down my face. "I'm sorry." I whispered. "I didn't mean to cut you off, it just got out of hand quickly."

 

 

     He sat down on the bed and reached out for my hand. "Will you come home today?" He asked again, stroking his thumb along my hand.

 

 

     "If you answer one question for me, I will." I said. He watched my face and nodded. "How did you find me?" A cocky smile spread across his face as he stood and reached into my black bag. He fished around and produced a tracker. "Ass." I said, smiling to myself as he came back and sat on the bed with me. "Have you solved the case yet?"

 

 

     "Almost." He said as I leaned into his chest. "I still need to break into the embassy though."

 

 

     "When are you planning on doing that?" I asked, closing my eyes.

 

 

     "I still need to figure out how to do it." The frown in his voice was obvious. "I could use some help."

 

 

     I felt myself begin to fall asleep, and just sighed in response.

 

 

     "Did you even try to catch up on your sleep these past few days?" He asked, chuckling. I groaned as I jerked myself back awake. "How much-"

 

 

     "Two hours." I yawned as I felt him lean back into the bed. "Sher-"

 

 

        "Hmmm?" He asked, chuckling. I felt myself go limp and fall asleep, listening to his steady heartbeat.

 

 

***

 

 

     I opened my eyes and was instantly confused, the room was pitching black. I groaned and rolled over, finding Sherlock next to me. I smiled as I watched him breathe evenly and took in his boyish features at their most relaxed. I took a deep breath and moved closer to him. He took a deep breath and turned in my direction. "Room's paid for. You deserve a bit of a vacation." He kept his eyes closed, but smiled. He reached up and put an arm around me. He then moved closer and placed a kiss on my forehead.

 

 

     "I need to go to the loo." I said, sitting up. "I'll be back in a moment." I rolled off the bed and stood. Turning back, I saw Sherlock sit up. "What?" I asked. "Don't you trust me?"

 

 

     "Nope." He said, honestly.  I rolled my eyes and quickly used the bathroom. I came back and he smiled up at me. “You didn’t  leave.”

 

 

     “Thanks for having so much faith in me. “ I smiled, and sat down on the bed next to him. “Are you tired?”

 

 

     “Why?” He asked. “Do you want to do something else?”

 

 

     Instead of answering his question with words, I leaned in and placed a tentative kiss on his lips. He grabbed the back of my head and pulled me in closer, his lips more aggressive. He pulled me onto him and the night wasn’t so bad anymore.


End file.
